


Ginkgo Dawn

by aestaeticism, baeconandeggs



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: 90s Korea, Alternate Universe - Bands, Alternate Universe - College/University, Drama, Explicit Mentions of Sex or Sexual Intimacy, Light Angst, M/M, Mentions of Byun Baekhyun x Lee Junki, Mentions of Character Death, Mentions of Suicide, Oh Sehun x Do Kyungsoo (side pairing), Romance, Slow Burn, light homophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-05
Updated: 2018-06-05
Packaged: 2019-05-18 17:30:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 137,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14857091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aestaeticism/pseuds/aestaeticism, https://archiveofourown.org/users/baeconandeggs/pseuds/baeconandeggs
Summary: Chanyeol first sees Baekhyun as he's dozing off on the top of the stairs on the last floor of the Chemistry building, bracing an electric guitar.





	1. Intro

**Author's Note:**

> **Prompt #:** (BAE286)  
>  **Disclaimer: baeconandeggs/the mods is/are not the author/s of this story. Authors will be credited and tagged after reveals.** The celebrities' names/images are merely borrowed and do not represent who the celebrities are in real life. No offense is intended towards them, their families or friends. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this fictional work. No copyright infringement is intended.
> 
>  **Author's Note:** This was a fic that didn’t want to be written -at least by me, apparently. It took me months to start and months to finish and it was difficult to write, but in the end I think I like how it turned out and I hope you like it too. Before giving you some useful guidelines regarding this fic, I wanted to thank a few people that helped me through the process of writing it. First, thank you to G. for listening to my rambling every single time I grew to hate this fic (which was quite often); thank you to A. for betaing me even when the fic was halfway through and thank you to C. for the music related advices and resources. Finally a huge huge thank you to A. because I doubt I would’ve started this fic if it hadn’t been for you and clearly I wouldn’t have finished it without your constant support. 
> 
> Quick notes about the fic:
> 
> \- This fic is set in 90s Korea in Seoul, mostly circling the area of Dongdaemun-gu and Mapo-gu. The locations mentioned (at least most of them) are real and either still exist or existed at the time. Paradise Dust, Rolling Stone and Drug were real concert halls in Seoul and Crying Nut is a korean punk rock band — and still exists.  
> \- This fic references some real historical and political facts happened in korea in the 80s and 90s, and I tried to give it justice, but there could be a few mistakes here and there. I tried to be as accurate as I could regarding the music I mentioned, but I took some liberties with a couple of dates, pushing them back of a year or two.  
> \- Also, I tried to research and read a lot to get all the music related terminology and situations right but I’m not in a rock band ç_ç So if you are and I got things wrong please don’t be too harsh on me.  
> \- Finally, if you see a similarity between the fic and the manga ‘Given’ it’s because a part of the plot is inspired from said manga. / there’s a few references to this book [ The sadness of the survivors ] Park Ilmoon and this short novel [ Plastic Sex ] by Lee Namhee  
> This being said, I hope you enjoy the ride! See you at the end.

**Intro**

 

It was an insisting _thump_ , _thump_ It came from inside, shaking him to the core and somehow blending with his heartbeat in a sort of secret, sacred primordial rhythm. _Thump_ , _thump_ it was in the rattling of his bones, in the silent but constant sound of the blood flowing through his veins, it was in the laughter, in the rhythm of a breath.

Chanyeol had learned that rhythm by heart and though it changed for every song, for every style they played -- sometimes it was fast and barely audible, like the ruffling of feathers, sometimes it was deep, profound and low, like the sound of the earth shaking-- Chanyeol just knew it was always the same in the end. Music, whatever it was, that’s where it started: in that low, constant beat reverberating inside his body. 

Kyungsoo set the bass drum and his drum to tossing the percussion back and forth, the beat growing and yet leaving something there hanging, like an unfulfilled promise.

Chanyeol opened his eyes suddenly, stepped forward, snatched his mike and screamed. The audience screamed back and it was like a dam breaking: the music exploded as Chanyeol hammered down a chord on his Stratocaster and began to sing.

_Freezin' rests his head on a pillow made of concrete again_ _  
_ _Oh Feelin' maybe he'll see a little betters any days_ _  
_ _Oh hand out faces that he sees come again ain't that familiar_  
Oh dark grin he can't help when he's happy he looks insane

The lights on stage were blinding and, beyond them, just shadows. There were shadows at the sound booth, shadows on the dance floor. Bodies, countless living souls moving in an eerie moviola like a giant, sleepy monster, to the rhythm of Kyungsoo’s drums, to the voice of Chanyeol’s guitar. Here, in this poorly lit room that usually didn’t incite any emotion in Chanyeol other than vague disgust for the sticky floor and the cramped stage, was what Chanyeol played for: this wild human energy, the fast burning flame of twenty somethings screaming and dancing their weekend away. The static, the lights, the electricity on stage as he clutched his Stratocaster and sang his lungs out.

He heard Kyungsoo roll sticks across the snare, Jiho screamed down his E string and Chanyeol started the first refrain. He threw him and Sehun a side glance as his voice dragged on the descent of the D chord. 

_Thoughts arrive like butterflies_ _  
_ _Oh he don't know_ _  
_ _So he chases them away_ _  
_ _Someday yet he'll begin his life again_  
Life again

The neon lights flashed the stage, then the ceiling and briefly the audience. The spectators were looking up at him and Chanyeol soaked in the enthusiasm of their singing along with him, of their arms cutting the air as they followed the music, as the beat electrocuted their bodies, guided their movements.

The guitar felt light as Kyungsoo accompanied him for his solo. He kept it simple and let it go quieter and quieter while the notes spilt out of his guitar like sparkles. Then, when the refrain started again Chanyeol bent over the mike and let the words out. Kyungsoo backed him with the thunder of drums, Sehun with the steady rolling voice of his bass, Jiho with wild chords from his Gibson Goldtop.

The crowd cheered and at that point, on his knees on stage, Chanyeol didn’t care about the sweat on his forehead, nor about how much his muscles ached from strumming chords. All he knew was the rhythm, the notes, the strings under his fingertips.

And in this moment on stage, owning the crowd felt much like owning the world.

The music grumbled and grew under Chanyeol’s voice, like something warm and big enveloping the whole venue, rising through the floor and living through their energy, their instruments. _Even flow_ -the song they were playing- was free. It filled everything with its roaring. It ensnared them all and Chanyeol let it. 

_Someday yet he'll begin his life again_ _  
_ _Whispering hands, carry him away_  
Him away, him away

 

.

 

Paradise Dust looked a lot less exciting with no lights on stage and no crowd cheering or dancing. It wasn’t by any means fancy enough to have earned the grand title of _Paradise_ , though the _dust_ part, Chanyeol had to admit, was quite accurate. 

There was an old jukebox in a corner, a bar counter and a couple of arcade games near the emergency exit at the back. The privé, in a smaller elevated area, allowed a wide view of the stage for those who could afford the more expensive drinks. Paradise Dust wasn’t the most popular venue in Hongdae, but The Housewives never complained when it came to playing two-night gigs, especially with the promise of twenty-five thousand won per member.

Chanyeol turned off his amp then unplugged his axe, feeling the pocket of his military green hoodie with his free hand for the shape of his tobacco pouch and lighter. Sehun was tending to his own equipment, while Kyungsoo - at the light gesture of Jongdeok’s hand from behind the bar - jumped off the stage in his checked shirt, cigarette already between his lips.

“You gonna let him do the band leader job again tonight?” Jiho stood next to Chanyeol, his hand hooked on Chanyeol’s shoulder in a friendly, almost without-thought manner.

“Yeah, whatever,” Chanyeol started, as he tucked the Stratocaster into its case and rolled up the cable. “Jongdeok likes him more than he likes me anyway,” he offered with a shake of his head. “Cig?”

“Have I ever said no to that?” Jiho’s eyes wrinkled up behind his fringe or whatever the blonde mop of extremely damaged hair on his head was, then headed towards the emergency exit before Chanyeol could reply.

There was some charm to smoking in dirty alleyways hidden behind the trash. The humidity of the winter Seoulite night made the asphalt glisten under the streetlights. That night wasn’t different and the smoke from Chanyeol’s rolled cigarette spiralled upwards in hazy tendrils, before disappearing into the bigger puff of Chanyeol’s breath in the freezing air.

“Shit,” Jiho cursed, as he squatted on the floor, free hand tucked between his legs and his puffy jacket. “I should’ve said no,” he rattled out, then he made a sound of pain and Chanyeol snorted in amusement.

“We had to let Kyungsoo do what he’s good at, give him space to sweeten up Jongdeok.”

“And what is he good at, getting us paid?” Jiho asked, looking up briefly. Chanyeol shrugged in response. Jiho dragged at his cigarette and balanced again on his legs. “You’ve been letting him do that a lot lately. You’re the leader, you should be getting the money.”

“I thought you hadn’t noticed. You’ve been…” he searched for the right words. “...out of it lately.”

“What shouldn’t I have noticed? That we’re not working out good lately or that you lose it every time it’s paytime and they kick us out?”

Chanyeol didn’t react, but he looked away to the wall where a poster for _Black Hole_ promised an unforgettable concert night at _Drug_ , with a much more crowded venue than the scant audience Paradise Dust could guarantee.

“It’s been pretty bad lately, it’d be hard not to notice, ParkChan,” Jiho continued with a sad smile. He stood up slowly, immediately after, “Shit, my knees hurt...I’m getting o-”

“So, what…?” Chanyeol cut in around the edge of his cigarette. “I know you’re trying to say something, I know that face. Just spit it out Ji, it’s cold and I’m freezing my balls off here.”

“Yeah I’m...I’m leaving The Housewives ParkChan,” he announced with scarce determination.

Chanyeol breathed in, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. He made an extra effort to find comfort in the lingering energy the concert had left in his veins, then straightened his head. His cigarette reached his lips for another drag of smoke, a longer one.

Jiho searched Chanyeol’s eyes. 

“I guess I saw it coming,” Chanyeol said.

“I just wanted to say goodbye with a last performance. I’ll miss you guys, and you especially.”

Chanyeol snorted at that. “We started this together, you bastard. This feels like you’re breaking up with me. It hurts!”

Jiho chuckled and walked closer to Chanyeol, until he could bump his head into Chanyeol’s shoulder. Chanyeol patted his back and stretched out the hand holding the cigarette, not wanting to risk burning him.

“You know, maybe I should just quit gigging and call it a night. With the whole Housewives thing, I mean,” Chanyeol shared as Jiho retreated, he glanced quickly at the flocks of people pouring out of the suljib across the street. “My mom keeps saying I should take a break, shave my head ya know?”

Jiho shook his head, a little sad, a little angry. He gestured wildly with his free hand as he dragged deeply from the cigarette. “You know, the three of you... You guys are good. Really good. You should definitely not become a monk.”

Chanyeol snorted again and Jiho shook his head. “I mean it I swear. Kyungsoo is great, and let’s not even start with Sehun. Not sure where you found the kid but he has a gift or...whatever the hell he has -- he looks like he’s drugged most of the time, not sure. But he’s very good.”

Chanyeol found that he couldn’t really formulate a reply to that, so he just stared until they were both silent, living their last moments as band mates. “I love the after, even if the stage smells funny and we don’t get paid. The… thing, the being on stage makes it worth it. All of it.” 

“Man, you’re nostalgic today. I just said I’d leave the band, I’m not going to America or anything.” Jiho teased, coming forward again to smack Chanyeol’s shoulder.

Chanyeol smiled and pretended it wasn’t a bitter one as he nodded slowly. He threw the butt of his cigarette to the ground, then put it out with the point of his All Star. “Yeah...I don’t know. Are you sure you’re doing the right thing Ji? What are you gonna do now?”

Jiho shrugged, unbothered. He put out his cigarette too, mirroring Chanyeol’s action, and snuck his hands into his pockets. He swayed left and right, looking like a weird mix between a cat and a child. Chanyeol wondered if he was saying goodbye to a band mate or to his best friend that night.

“Maybe start another band? Or maybe get a real job instead of these underpaying part times I insist on falling into.”

Chanyeol shook his head, his hand reaching out for nothing in the air, trying to catch Jiho’s attention. “Don’t start a band. It’s such a crappy way to make a living… If Kyungsoo’s not out yet, the money must be less than expected.”

Jiho nodded in agreement, then leaned against the wall but didn’t reply. He looked towards the street, mirroring what Chanyeol did.

“You play and play and you hope it matches with classes and reports, you work hard. But then you end up playing on the stage of Paradise Dust while the punkheads judge you from the sidelines.” Chanyeol continued, sounding more disillusioned than sad.

“Oh, shut up. You guys are better than that. Don’t shit on The Housewives like that.” Jiho paused. He met Chanyeol’s eyes for a split second, then pushed his shoulder again. “No fuck it, don’t shit on yourself like that ParkChan. Make this your job. I may end up in an office kissing some superior’s ass and playing coffee boy until the clock strikes ten but I don’t want you to end up like that too.”

Chanyeol snorted, a shiver running down his spine as a draft of wind snuck through his heavy hoodie. “If you work hard enough they’ll promote you to the guy who orders the coffee guy around. Maybe you’ll get Spam for Christmas.”

“Man, I’m 22. I don’t wanna do that,” Jiho whined in something akin to pure despair.

Sehun’s voice could be heard from inside, followed by an apparently calm Kyungsoo. Maybe they’d scored almost all of what they were promised. Maybe.

Chanyeol lifted his shoulders lightly and spared a sarcastic glance at Jiho. “Don’t leave the band, then.”

“I can’t man. The Housewives are great, I swear, but you know I don’t even like rock music.”

Chanyeol turned around, ready to enter the pub. He waited for Jiho so that he could circle his shoulder in their usual comradery. “I know, man, I know. No hard feelings. I get it.”

“You do?” Jiho opened the back door to Sehun and Kyungsoo just standing there -- Sehun with his usual rigid posture, Kyungsoo slouching a bit.

“Yeah, I do.”

 


	2. Track 01

**Track 01**

 

Maybe it all started with that last gig of The Housewives, the one where Jiho left, and Chanyeol had to tell the others because the bastard snuck out after getting his fraction of the money — Chanyeol was disappointed but not that surprised, because that’s how Jiho had always handled things, ever since they were toddlers with snot under their noses. Chanyeol was still convinced that last gig was the beginning of it all: of how he himself screwed everything over, of how The Housewives eventually stopped existing.

For sure that last gig had to be taken into account, together with Jiho leaving and The Housewives becoming a three member group — Chanyeol had insisted that Nirvana worked just fine as a band of three and took care to remind it to anyone who asked about Jiho. However, along with the gig, the fact that Chanyeol forgot his lunch money that day a month and a half after the gig could also be counted as one of the fateful events that led to everything else.

It was a little after the beginning of the spring semester in 1993. The air was crisp and icy despite it being March already — people were still wearing long coats and warm scarves to school and anywhere Chanyeol looked, white puffs of warm air made every student of K. University look like dragons, or mad scientists.

The leaves on the ground in front of the main cafeteria whirled in the merciless wind, as did the hair of a few students, who giggled away as they entered the building. Chanyeol had nothing to giggle about; his ass freezing cold and his knobbly knees complaining about the air sneaking into his pants through very dubious holes he’d ripped out himself. His nose and ears were as desensitized as they could be.

Also, Chanyeol had no lunch money.

“I can’t believe you won’t pay for me. Could you be any more stingy?”

“My second week isn’t even over and you already owe me lunch. Twice.” Sehun complained, as he curled in on himself trying to expose the least skin to the weather.

“Stop playing the hyung card and just buy samgak kimbap today from the convenience store. Or milk or something.” Kyungsoo kicked Chanyeol’s shin weakly, sitting on the third step of the stairs like a young, careless king. Chanyeol recoiled, his face wrinkling up in a grimace.

“You’re trash, I have no money. And I wanted something warm. They have mandu-guk today c’mon! It’s only two thousand. Seriously, even Jongdeok is more generous with his tips.” Sehun dropped his head on Chanyeol’s shoulder from just behind. Chanyeol let him, even when Sehun circled his waist over the coat.

“Technically we should be giving tips to Jongdeok.” Sehun quipped back. Chanyeol elbowed him in the stomach, but that didn’t work to make Sehun retreat. At least he was warm. “It’s not our fault you spent all your money on that new sound effect kit.”

Chanyeol opened his mouth to complain, but the words died in his throat. _It’s music, if it’s music it’s allowed_ , or at least that’s how it was for Chanyeol _._ Too bad the excuse didn’t work for everyone, not even a composition major like Kyungsoo.

“Just ask the lady to heat the damn thing up for you. Can Oh Sehun and I go eat now? We’ll see you later at the Corner.” Kyungsoo said quietly, calm. It would’ve sounded rude, if Kyungsoo hadn’t kept it so neutral. He stood up, then started climbing the stairs while struggling to get his messenger bag over his shoulder, battling his puffy jacket. “Sehun-ah, c’mon.”

Chanyeol sighed, following Kyungsoo’s figure with his eyes as Sehun loosened his grip. “Hyung wait!,” Sehun said, and Chanyeol felt Sehun’s hand sneaking into his coat’s pocket, slipping something into it.

“What are you doing?”

Sehun shrugged with a flick of his shoulder and that natural mischievous half grin of his that usually appeared at the corner of his lips. Then he hurried to run after Kyungsoo on the stairs, only stopping when he was one step behind him. “Hyung!” he called again, and then they were too far for Chanyeol to hear.

He groaned and his stomach echoed his despair as he snuck his hand inside the pocket where Sehun had just slipped something. It was two coins, one thousand won in total. Definitely not enough to get himself the mandu guk he wanted, but enough for an _ingoppang_  bag from the stall behind the school (3 for one thousand. A real deal!).

He grinned, because Oh Sehun was one nice son of a bitch, even if he wasn’t rich at all and he struggled to make ends meet. He closed the two coins in a fist, shoved his hands into his pockets and walked away towards his super-secret place.

He waved to a couple of friends from his faculty on his way to the back of the Natural Science building, then made sure nobody stopped him nor followed when he reached the arched entryway to the stairs, up up to the old unused chemistry lab.

He closed his jacket tighter as he entered the small corridor, walked past what once was the Chemistry Department Office and now was used as storage room, past two research labs. The doors were wide open and nobody could be seen inside.

Chanyeol’s secret place was at the very end of the corridor, in a hidden corner of the Chemistry building. One turn left after the last lab, up a small flight of stairs - ten steps at most. It was warm in winter, because the position prevented cold wind from coming inside, and cool enough in the summer to offer some protection from the merciless heat wave that hit Korea during exam season.

There was nothing _super secret_ about it, but people rarely went there, or at least Chanyeol had never met anyone brave enough to wander towards Professor’s Choi’s research lab voluntarily for the risk of meeting him.

It brought Chanyeol back to why, after all, things may not have exactly started with that last gig. Maybe they started on that flight of stairs in the Chemistry Lab after all, with hands gripping the body of a Gibson.

The guy could’ve been Chanyeol’s age, definitely a university student and not someone who’d just snuck inside the building. He was sitting on top of the stairs, one shoulder pressed against the wall. He looked way too comfortable sleeping while hugging a semi-acoustic guitar on the cold floor — his head hanging low, a dark brown fringe covering his eyes, and ears large enough to tease him.

Chanyeol stared curiously and with a frustrated frown. His last chance at a pre-class nap taken away from him; the hunger didn’t help. Gibson Guy took up the left corner of the step half weighing on his guitar. Chanyeol could’ve technically taken the right corner, smoked a cigarette and left and the issue would’ve ended there.

Chanyeol could’ve also not stopped at all. He could’ve napped in the padded chair on the ground floor of the Korean Language & Literature department. After all, the hall was heated and had all the necessary commodities.

However Chanyeol shrugged as he resorted to sitting next to Gibson guy, ignoring the cold biting his rear. He stopped his motions in silence, more attracted to the overly fancy guitar than to the features of his napping companion. The Gibson E-330 was a great guitar if you wanted a deep, almost scratchy sound and all the aesthetic that the black and honey colored wooden body of the semi-acoustic could offer. Except that this guitar was cherry red, and it stang Chanyeol’s irises with its gorgeousness.  

Chanyeol could see himself playing such a guitar. The stage lights on him, Sehun hyping up his notes with the sustained voice of his bass. Next to this guy, though, it created some sort of dissonance — a song with an awkward ending. Something didn’t look right, even if Chanyeol couldn’t exactly decide what that was.

He was in awe and confused at the same time , as his eyes slowly left the guitar and the hands latching onto it, to focus on the sleeping face of the guy — peaceful. There was a mole on his cheek and one on the corner of his lip, like a kiss of ink or something.

Chanyeol absentmindedly palmed the pocket of his padded coat, then took out his leather  tobacco pouch and almost proceeded to roll his cigarette. He stopped, feeling the shape of a real cigarette under his fingertips. There it was, tucked in the corner of his pouch — a goodbye gift. Chanyeol recognized it as one of Jiho’s from the orange-y butt — Jiho only smoked Camel, he had declared any other brand useless. Chanyeol rolled it between his fingers as he threw more subtle glances at the guy from the corner of his eyes.

It was a familiar face. Gibson Guy must’ve been popular enough around school for Chanyeol to know those features, despite not being able to put a name to them. He was sure, however, that he’d never seen anyone with an instrument on their back in his department, except maybe for Sehun on the rare occasions upon which he visited to pick Chanyeol up for practice. If not the guy — his features were quite plain, in Chanyeol’s eyes — he would’ve noticed the guitar at least.

Chanyeol frowned, both in annoyance for his empty stomach and in an attempt to take his thoughts away from the situation, as he finally lit his cigarette and took a drag. The smoke had the immediate effect of warming him up, at least. His hands, ears and nose finally had reprieve from the icy cold weather, Chanyeol could feel his skin prickle from the sudden, vague warmth.

Gibson guy’s ears were red, probably from the cold — he had another dot, just on the shell of his ear. Chanyeol indulged in a longer stare, before tilting his head enough to have it rest against the cold surface of the wall.

He closed his eyes as he shivered, wrapping himself into his jacket some more with his free hand. It was March already, yet Spring felt so far.

 

.

 

When Chanyeol woke up with a jolt it was to a startled whimper and a subsequent series of muffled noises of pain. They pulled him out of dreamland in a panicked haze, not too far from the sensation of falling in a dream. His eyes shot wide open and his fingers closed on nothing, as he realized that he wasn’t holding his cigarette anymore and he’d dozed off.

Shit.

The second thing he realized, as his eyes focused on his surroundings, was that Gibson Guy was still next to him, clutching at his own wrist, biting down on his bottom lip. The guy muttered a curse as he took a better look at his wrist, then squinted his eyes in pain.

Shit. The cigarette was right next to Chanyeol’s foot, burning away innocently — a deep orange dot on the floor. Shit.

“ _Shit_ I’m so sorry, I…” Chanyeol stammered. He reached for Gibson Guy’s wrist, then gave up midway because Gibson Guy retreated with his back to the wall. He was forcing a smile onto his lips, Chanyeol could tell. “I’m sorry I must’ve fallen asleep, I hadn’t even realiz-”

“It’s fine,” Gibson Guy cut it short with a nod. “It’s fine, I shouldn’t have fallen asleep here in the first place...it just hurts a little,” he said around a laughter, with a flinch of pain.

The guitar slowly slid between Gibson Guy’s legs, then hit the ground with a hollow sound that startled both of them. Chanyeol’s face must’ve resembled death itself. Gibson Guy’s face went white in terror as he stirred, trying to secure the guitar back against his sternum, meanwhile making sure that his wrist didn’t touch anything.

If the perfectly round, angry red burn on his wrist made Chanyeol sad, a very expensive Gibson ES-330 tumbling down the stairs, destroyed -or even chipped- would’ve broken his heart.

“Careful with th-” Chanyeol tried to offer. “Wait.” He said, and he reached to take the guitar away from Gibson Guy’s hands with a flap of his own hands, gesturing to hand it over. “Sorry. These things are more expensive than the deposit for a One Room, it's…-”

Hesitation flashed on Gibson Guy's face before he slowly allowed the guitar to be left in Chanyeol’s care, passing it into his hands. Chanyeol lay the guitar across his lap, after taking a better look at it and almost whistling in appreciation.

Gibson guy on the other hand, Chanyeol peeked at him while he bit down on the inside of his cheek, examining the perfectly round burn on his wrist. Redness had spread all around it — Chanyeol's eyes stopped on Gibson guy’s fingers as he blew wind on his wrist, then shook it frantically, probably trying to get rid of the sting.

He exhaled as he tried obviously not to focus on the pain and squinted his eyes closed. “You…” Gibson Guy started, hesitant, and Chanyeol blinked and focused on him, waiting for the sentence to be completed. “...don't happen to have a bandaid right?”

Chanyeol shook his head slowly. “No, I don’t,” he replied. “I have some water, if you want. In my bag.” Chanyeol hunched forward, the guitar solidly stuck between his legs and torso as he took out a half empty bottle of water from his black messenger bag. He had no idea how long the bottle had been there but he decided to leave that detail out, despite the very flimsy looking label and the bumps on the upper part of the bottle, as he handed it to Gibson Guy,

Chanyeol stole a single fleeting glance as Gibson Guy uncapped the bottle with furrowed brows and poured some water on his wrist. He flinched and tore his gaze away, when Gibson Guy hissed. “Shit,” he cussed. Chanyeol let an apology linger on the tip of his tongue, but he never managed to let it out.

Gibson Guy looked up with the face of someone who was obviously in pain, and yet it was carefree enough to catch Chanyeol’s attention, keep him there. “That guitar suits you,” Gibson Guy offered. Chanyeol couldn’t tell if he was trying to prevent Chanyeol from feeling too guilty, or if he was trying to get his mind off the burn. It worked, in any case.

Chanyeol snorted a breathy laugh, while he maneuvered the guitar horizontally, then half flipped it to check that no damage had been done to the base when Gibson Guy had dropped it. Luckily there was no scratch to be seen except for some, probably made in the past.

“You should be more careful with this, you know? It's like a baby,” Chanyeol started, then proceeded to tickle the strings a little, tease them almost. It was completely out of tune, and yet Chanyeol could still tell from the timbre of the string that the instrument would sound beautiful, even now seeming to yield under his touch.

Chanyeol spent a few moments trying to tune the guitar even a little, then he tried a slow, still out of tune arpeggio and he couldn't suppress a smile. Even if a little de-tuned at the moment, this guitar was worth some love as well. And it had obviously been loved, given the way the neck and the strings showed signs of wear.

“It’s out of tune, but it’s such a good guitar,” Chanyeol murmured, as he lifted his head up to meet Gibson Guy’s eyes. “How long have you been playing?”

Chanyeol received no answer, not immediately at least. What he got was a pair of dark eyes stuck on him, a surprised crooked smile and a breath puffed out of Gibson Guy’s nose — a charmed snort, almost. “Wow…” Gibson guy breathed. “You can play.”

Chanyeol shrugged, lowering his gaze back to the guitar. He picked at the strings delicately and was pleased, even if what came out was a mess, tune wise. Yes, he could play. And he was fairly good, if he did say so himself — he knew he was. He could play and he loved his music enough to always want to drop everything and lock himself up in The Corner to play until his strings wore away.

The constant thump of Kyungsoo’s drum, the rhythm of Sehun’s bass, the voice of his guitar. Chanyeol was like a wound up spring ready to get rid of anything between him and his music.

However, this stranger’s guitar was keeping him there — or maybe it was its owner? Chanyeol couldn’t tell, and that should’ve been a hint in retrospect.

“Yeah, I play,” Chanyeol confirmed after placing his hand flat on the strings to cut the sound. He eyed the guy next to him with suspicion, feeling the weight of the guitar on his lap. “Don’t you?”

Gibson Guy shook his head still somewhat in awe, somewhat amused. “No… I don’t play.”

He shifted closer, apparently forgetful of the burn. “Would you teach me?” He grabbed the side of Chanyeol’s jacket, the glint in his eyes burning into Chanyeol’s skin like fire. Chanyeol felt himself curl onto the guitar, almost intimidated as his gaze dropped to the floor.

The cigarette burning, and then the plastic bottle on the floor attracted Chanyeol’s attention for a moment. He couldn’t decide whether this guy was serious or whether he was the victim of some weird prank. A Gibson ES-330 was an expensive instrument.

“You really don’t play?,” Chanyeol asked again, doubtful.

The guy shook his head, that smile of his making him look like a pretty cheshire cat. “I don’t. Piano hands, see?” He promptly showed his hands, stretching his fingers ever so slightly. “So, will you teach me?”

Chanyeol looked at the hands with a raised eyebrow and a very confused pout. “I…” He started, shaking his head. “I don’t teach. Never have, so...I can’t really help you, sorry,” he said with the hesitation of someone to whom a stranger has just asked for free classes.

Gibson Guy retreated a little, his lips turned down slightly. Chanyeol felt like he could breathe a little better. “You don’t?”

“I don’t,” Chanyeol repeated. Gibson Guy nodded in understanding. His wrist still red, his hair a little messy. He had this look on his face, like he wasn’t actually disappointed. Like he didn’t care, after all.

Chanyeol put out the cigarette on the floor with the back of his shoe as the guy proceeded to pull himself up, then stretch his arms at the sides of his body.

“I see,” Gibson Guy said belatedly, then he reached out to get his guitar back with a polite smile that didn’t extend to his other features. “I really want to learn,” he added, and here the smile transitioned into something sadder, lonelier.

Chanyeol carefully handed back the Gibson with a heavy heart, secretly hoping it would get sold to someone else — anyone but this guy, really. “I’ve never taught anyone,” he lied for the second time. It was a white lie, because he and Jiho had learned together, even though it was mostly Chanyeol telling him how to do stuff. _And I don’t know you_ was what Chanyeol didn’t add. “You should learn how to tune it first, you know? Put those piano hands to use. That could be a start.” he offered vaguely.

Gibson guy grinned mischievously in return, then awkwardly held the guitar close to his body. “It would be much easier if someone taught me, ya know.”

Chanyeol snorted, then used the wall to lever himself to stand up as well. “Someone. Not me,” he clarified as he closed his jacket and mourned the cigarette on the floor — there went Jiho’s last gift. “There are guitar clubs in the university, you could try one of those. Or one of your friends?”

Chanyeol went down one step with Gibson Guy still behind him, then jumped down the rest of the ramp with a nonchalant plunge, then tripped once he touched the ground. Behind him the guy laughed a staccato laugh — his laugh was terrible. “What the hell was that?”

Chanyeol’s ears went a little red as the embarrassment from his little stunt dropped like a bomb, so he didn’t look back as Gibson Guy kept chuckling behind him. Instead he raised a hand in a very non Korean salute. “Tune that baby, she’s miserable. And go to a club if you wanna learn.”

One derisive snort followed. “Yeah, whatever.”

 

.

 

Chanyeol’s hands were on Sehun’s shoulders as he made his way through the crowd in the cramped classroom, with low murmurings of _excuse me_ and _just a moment_. The first of the things that he remembered of that day was the loud buzzing of people’s voices as they chattered away, loud, like cicadas in the summer.

Chanyeol accidentally bumped into someone’s shoulder and a bow of his head followed in apology as Sehun turned his head back with a smirk. “Watch out, hyung,” he teased. Chanyeol responded with a glare and a pout.

“Look ahead,” he murmured as he craned his head to quickly inspect the center of the room over a crowd of black and brown hair. Chanyeol’s eyes focused briefly on the figure at the lecture stand, then shifted to the shiny back of Sehun’s head and ultimately whipped back towards the lecture stand once more.

Gibson Guy, his eyes squinting behind a pair of thin, rounded specs, was listing a bunch of data nobody was really interested in listening to. The buzzing overlapped and hovered over his voice, but that didn’t seem to bother him, his eyes scanning the room as he read.

Chanyeol blinked a couple of times and opened his mouth, leaning forward into Sehun’s shoulder but just managing a low gasp because Sehun hurried his step. “There’s room over there,” he quickly informed Chanyeol, not bothering to look behind.

Chanyeol nodded in response, stealing another quick, incredulous peek at Gibson Guy in his white t-shirt and black hoodie behind the lecture stand. _What are the odds?_

He and Sehun stopped at the very back of the classroom — Sehun flushed from the sudden change in temperature from the outside, Chanyeol just overwhelmed by the amount of students who attended the seminar. There wasn’t an empty corner in the classroom and all of the chairs were taken. Chanyeol and Sehun ended up leaning against a couple of desks which had been moved to the sides of the room to make room in the center.

Some guy in a parka coat and a hat shoved pamphlets into their hands, then slapped Sehun’s shoulder in an act of camaraderie. “Thanks for coming,” he said. Both Sehun and Chanyeol nodded back, as their eyes went to the paper sheets.

According to the title, the event was the Opening Seminar organized by the Department of Philosophy for Critical Thinking and that clearly contrasted with the obviously political and subversive titles of the speeches listed below. Chanyeol had been to a few seminars before — one about translations, another one about new Scientific Discoveries around the world — but _this_ seminar was something else.

What stood out the most like a sore thumb though, was Gibson Guy.

He kept talking in the background while Chanyeol scanned the setlist to find his name, without a clue. He could’ve been much older than Chanyeol had expected — he couldn’t tell.

“Ohi,” he shifted closer to Sehun. “How many people do you think have spoken until now?”

Sehun shrugged, then gently tapped the shoulder of a girl standing right in front of him, repeating the same question. Chanyeol suppressed a snort as the girl slowly checked Sehun out before providing her answer in the smallest voice.

“She said it’s the third,” Sehun informed Chanyeol as he went back to leaning onto the desk with his legs and arms crossed.

“Third?,” Chanyeol looked up in askance and Sehun confirmed, miming a three with his fingers.

Chanyeol’s eyes went to check the piece of paper in his hand once again, and that’s when the buzzing suddenly stopped and Gibson Guy’s voice almost echoed in the silence of the classroom.

“There are bodies piled on top of each other, it’s difficult to understand where they start, where they finish.”

Byun Baekhyun, said the piece of paper. Second Year, Political Sciences Department.

“The body of a man has been thrown onto that of a boy and on top of him another boy, older than the first one. Tall, his knees meet the feet of the first boy,” Byun Baekhyun continued, lifting his gaze from the paper to meet those of the students there.

Chanyeol felt a growing sense of uneasiness as Baekhyun kept talking, like a hook in the center of his stomach. It wasn’t an easy topic, Chanyeol wasn’t sure he wanted to hear more. And yet at the same time he was entranced, the whole room was.

It took a second for them to understand what Baekhyun was talking about. It didn’t need to be a specific massacre, it could’ve been any of them. The chain of student protests of the 80s and the deaths that followed were still fresh wounds for each one of the people in the room and an uncomfortable topic of discussion for politicians and journalists. Talking about it in a public meeting was risky, not only for Byun Baekhyun but also for all the people who were there listening.

Someone in their right mind would’ve stopped him immediately, yet nobody did.

“When the helmets came they were bearing the red band of the Red Cross on their upper arm. They started to lift the bodies up, throw them into the back of a military truck. It was as easy as loading sacks of grain, mechanical, aseptic.”

Byun Baekhyun paused briefly and the room held its breath when he did. Chanyeol jolted as he felt Sehun’s elbow into his flank.

“Wow, this is intense…,” he whispered.

Chanyeol didn’t know how to react, he turned his head back to the lecture stand.

“The cluster of bodies, an incongruent mass in the back of the truck, jolted along with the bumps in the road. The truck left the city, it drove towards the outskirts, to the countryside. It drove up a low hill, files of trees on the side. Stopped in front of a gate. A low shriek as it opened. If it’s true that a soul never leaves the body, all those souls must’ve held on tight,” Baekhyun’s voice lowered to an almost whisper towards the end.

He pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose and cleared his throat. “They climbed down from the truck and proceeded to undo the catch. Then they were working together, in pairs, to move the bodies from the truck to the center of a clearing. Following the instruction of one of them, they started to stack the bodies in the shape of a cross.”

Baekhyun looked up. He looked ahead and focused on the only person who’d had the courage to murmur something during the speech. His gaze fixed on him, sharp and intense. He only spoke again when he _knew_ everyone was listening.

“The body of the boy was the second, crushed between two bodies at first then more, then more. There was no blood despite the pressure; there was no blood left. With his head tipped back, the body of the boy was pale, lit by the light of the moon. The helmets shoved a straw sack on top of the last body and the stack assumed the form of a shapeless, mute monster.”

Chanyeol swallowed when Baekhyun’s gaze met his.

“Then, when the helmets left, everything was engulfed in darkness.”

People started exchanging worried looks, and even Sehun was the most shaken Chanyeol had ever seen him. He had a curse at the tip of his tongue, Chanyeol could almost see it.

“We thought the assassination of president Park Jung Hee would’ve bought us freedom, but it didn’t,” Baekhyun started the conclusion of his speech and Chanyeol felt that hook of uneasiness release a little.

Sehun rested his chin on Chanyeol’s shoulder. “What the hell? Does he want to get arrested?,” he whispered quickly.

Chanyeol shook his head. “I’m not sure what he’s doing there, he’s a second year...” He showed the piece of paper to Sehun and Sehun raised an eyebrow as he noticed himself what Chanyeol had pointed out.

“It’s all phD students and graduates...Maybe he’s an activist?,” Sehun’s lips curled down in a sort of pensive pout.

“...the people who caused our people to suffer, the same people who released an army against defenseless students are the same who live in the comfort of their houses, knowing the law can’t touch them! Our people in Gwangju were murdered, beaten to death. It’s been twelve years and two elections and we never got justice!”

Baekhyun speech was more invested now, as his voiced raised in volume. “Is this the country we want the future generation to live in?”

Sehun and Chanyeol’s eyes widened. Chanyeol grabbed Sehun’s jacket in a jolt of surprise. “He _really_ wants to get arrested,” Chanyeol echoed Sehun’s words and Sehun nodded.

Someone shushed them from their right. “We should probably leave, you know? Before they arrest us all…” Sehun prompted and Chanyeol wasn’t sure if he was joking or not. He was still holding onto Sehun’s jacket.

“Those people don’t have a voice anymore. Some of them died, others are probably rotting in a cell because they were fighting for freedom,” Baekhyun urged. He was improvising at this point, holding onto the lecture stand with both hands.

“However _we_ have a voice and we should lend it to all those people, to honor them,” he paused and people were nodding, murmuring more and more loudly.

They were being riled up. Chanyeol was, frankly speaking, both intimidated and ready to march down the street for the hundreds of victims of the massacre.

“We are the future of this country. Our voices matter and we should raise them. Until justice is done,” a polite, thought out smile closed the speech right before people started clapping furiously and the loud, cicada-like buzzing was back.

“How old was this guy when Lee Han Yeol was killed though, fifteen?,” Sehun asked as he stretched out the tension from his posture. Older students were half hugging, half complimenting Byun Baekhyun. The discussion was still going on in the classroom, yet the atmosphere felt distinctly lighter than a moment before.

“Depends, but probably around that age,” Chanyeol shrugged, pushing himself away from the desk. “That was a heavy topic, considering we only came for the free lunch.”

Sehun snatched the pamphlet carelessly, munched on his bottom lip. “The next speeches are gonna be even more intense judging from the titles. _The ways of liberalism_ and _The voice of the press in the 80s_...” He smirked. “Are we really listening to these?”

Chanyeol followed the frame of Byun Baekhyun as he nonchalantly navigated through the crowd, until he couldn’t see him anymore. “Mh?”

“Are we really listening to these?” Sehun repeated, as he tossed the piece of paper closer to Chanyeol. Chanyeol snorted in response.

“Wanna go for a cig?”

Sehun just smiled in complicity.

The speeches following Byun Baekhyun’s were equally as politically informed, but a lot less enthralling. There was something lacking and Chanyeol wasn’t the only one who’d noticed.

People had started whispering, chatting again and though the speeches eventually lead to interesting debates, people seemed reluctant to share their opinions. Byun Baekhyun and two older students basically held the discussion going for a while, until the next speech was ready to be delivered.

Chanyeol noticed how Sehun had slipped an earbud into his ear at some point and was imperceptibly nodding his head to the rhythm of whatever he was listening to. He briefly met Chanyeol’s eyes and the corner of his lips turned up just slightly.

It was the middle of the last debate. Someone said something funny about the Cinema Department borrowing a helicopter to get the clip of a movie and everyone laughed for a few seconds. Even Chanyeol did, and he noticed Byun Baekhyun looking at him out of the corner of his eyes.

He couldn’t decide whether he found it annoying or not, but he categorized it as a weird sensation anyway.

He decided to lean into Sehun to steal an earbud for himself. Sehun changed the song from Master of Puppets to Enter Sandman and Chanyeol started tapping to the music on his thigh.  


“We expect many people to take part in the next gathering. Also remember the helicopter thing,” More laughter followed the words of one of the guys standing next to Byun Baekhyun, one arm around his shoulders. “The Cinema Department has had quite the battle. What’s the movie they’re watching, again…?”

Sehun spoke up for the first time since the beginning of the seminar. “It’s Bananas, the Woody Allen one,” he raised his voice enough so that other people heard. Everyone’s head turned to him, then turned back when the previous guy talked again.

“Ye-es, that one. Thank you. This foreign movie will be projected in the auditorium of the Cinema Department, I hope you will all attend. With this…,”

Chanyeol turned his head towards Sehun in askance. “You’re going?”

People were already standing up to leave. The cicada-like buzzing became more intense as the seminar drew to a close. Chanyeol pushed himself away from the desk, followed suit by Sehun.

“Are you kidding? If I end up in jail like Yonghun hyung they’re gonna kill me.”

Sehun rolled his earphones around his palm, then stuck them into his messenger bag through a hole in the side. “My mom is gonna kill me if she knows we came here, too.” He hooked a finger around the loop on the back of Chanyeol’s coat as they followed the crowd out of the room.

“It’s gonna be fine,” Chanyeol replied, half reassuring half shrugging it off. He wasn’t interested in getting arrested either and considering the general calm atmosphere of the seminar by that point, nobody would go to jail any time soon.

“No, you don’t get it. I’m dead if she knows,” Sehun insisted, weighing on Chanyeol’s shoulders as Chanyeol just hummed back in disinterest.

He scanned the crowd, instinctively searching for any familiar face, or at least that’s what he convinced himself of. When he didn’t find any amongst the sea of beige and blue coats, he let himself be dragged by Sehun to the end of the corridor towards the stairs.

“There’s Minseok Hyung over the- Hyung! Minseok hyung!”

Minseok and the two guys next to him were standing near one of the windows wearing almost identical outfits. Minseok waved his hand, then gestured for Sehun and Chanyeol to get closer while the other two guys bowed their heads. Minseok briefly introduced them as graduate students in their first semester.

“You came to the seminar too, hyung?” Chanyeol asked, then bowed in response to the other two guys and Sehun did the same.

“I did, but we got out after that second year student’s speech to get some air,” Minseok replied with an amused grin. “More like we didn’t want to go back inside, it got kinda stuffy…

” he left the sentence hanging and Chanyeol chuckled.

Sehun went from clinging onto Chanyeol to linking arms with Minseok. “Chanyeol hyung and I just came for the food,” he confessed and the two guys agreed with him, then became engaged in a conversation about how little food they got, and that they always snuck into seminars for the free food.

Chanyeol threw in a comment here and there, but mostly stayed silent while Minseok did all the talking. He and Sehun just hung around there, too polite to leave but too unfamiliar with the other two guys to talk freely.

At some point Chanyeol opened his mouth to blurt out the first excuse he could to escape the awkwardness, when he heard a voice behind him and he froze.

“Hello,” the voice said, loud enough to be heard by Chanyeol and noticed by the others.

However, Minseok went on with his conversation about seminars and how someone wanted the students to pay for attendance next time, while Chanyeol turned around with the wariness of someone who knows the Devil’s behind them.

Byun Baekhyun smiled when Chanyeol turned around, with a satisfied grin drawn on his features. “Hello,” he repeated, keeping the honorifics. “You were at the speech,” he pointed out, then belatedly bowed his head to the rest of the group — politely and a bit apologetically.

Chanyeol nodded, not sure how to react. He didn’t know this guy, they’d met once and he’d already gone beyond the level of confidence one would give to strangers. Openly reaching out when Chanyeol was clearly with someone else, as if they were friends. That wasn’t the most common of behaviors.

Chanyeol felt himself being pulled towards uneasiness as he meekly smiled back and he _knew_ that Minseok and Sehun were wondering why the hell the guy from the speech was talking to Chanyeol of all people.

“Did you like it?,” Byun Baekhyun asked, and he retreated a couple of steps. Chanyeol came forward without even realizing, following him. He distanced himself from Sehun and the others with a quick gesture of his hand as if saying _be right back_.

“You did well,” Chanyeol stammered, as if he had to force the words out of his mouth.

Byun Baekhyun seemed to find it extremely funny because he chuckled, teasing? Flustered? Something between those two. He was wearing a red scarf around his neck, one with little tassels at the edges and the same round glasses on the tip of his nose.

“Thank you for the forced compliment.” His voice lowered a tone or two.

Chanyeol snorted, a guttural sound. He quickly turned his head to the window, then back to Baekhyun. “Park Chanyeol, Second year, I’m majoring in Chemistry.”

Baekhyun seemed a bit taken aback at the sudden introduction, but his features softened immediately as he went to ruffle his own hair, out of habit probably. “You don’t look like someone who’d come to these places. Neither does your lanky friend over there.”

Quick glances were simultaneously thrown towards Sehun, then Chanyeol shook his head with a deep breath. “We’re not. But we heard it would be interesting, so…”

“So you came for the free food?” Baekhyun asked. His voice had a vein of something which made Chanyeol’s ears go slightly red, as if he’d been caught red handed —which he had.

Chanyeol blurted out some nonsense and Byun Baekhyun chuckled again. “The food was kinda bad though, don’t you think?”

“I swear that guy couldn’t stop complaining,” Chanyeol whisper-screamed, clearly hinting to Sehun. “It was very disappointing,” he concluded, with a tone of complicity.

Byun Baekhyun nodded slowly and silence fell for a few moments. Chanyeol was already feeling awkwardness creep up when Baekhyun spoke up again, stepping closer. Chanyeol kept his stance this time.

“You still don’t want to teach me?”

Chanyeol didn’t know what made him so annoyed about that sentence whenever this guy brought it up, but he felt it, the instinct to run the fastest he could, the farthest ever from Byun Baekhyun. Maybe it was the passionate light in his eyes, so different from the voice he used to ask. He asked the question like the funniest of jokes. It was irritating, because Chanyeol found it endearing.

Chanyeol let out half a breathy laugh.

“Why are you insisting? I told you, try the club. They’re very good at teaching.” Chanyeol made sure to drag all the vowels for Baekhyun to understand how annoyed he was by the matter, but this guy was a stubborn one.

His expression diluted in a confused, disappointed one and he lifted his shoulders lightly, his gaze going to the floor. When he looked up again, he was smiling. “It’s your loss, I guess.”

Chanyeol felt the instinct to punch that smile off his face, but just laughed back the most mechanical laugh he could reproduce on purpose. “Yeah, I guess,” he said.

Baekhyun left after introducing himself to Minseok and his friends there. He carefully avoided Chanyeol’s gaze until he was walking away, half his face buried into his scarf.

Strangely enough, Chanyeol felt his eyes linger a second more on every person wearing a red scarf on campus for the whole week that followed.

 

.

 

Chanyeol’s earliest memory of music was his mother singing Cho Deok-Bae’s ‘In Dreams’ while putting the laundry out to dry on the roof of the five storey building where they lived. Chanyeol used to listen to her voice sitting close as he played with stolen pegs, toy cars or fake bald barbie dolls — all hand-me-downs from his sister Yoora.

White sheets, pink and blue underwear and his mother singing.

His mom’s voice wasn’t necessarily soothing or entertaining. It was just there as a constant soundtrack, along with the sound of the radio in the kitchen, always tuned on the news station. Song Yongnam from the same neighborhood had a tv at home and sometimes the kids gathered at his house to watch MazingaZ replicas on MBC, but that was just once in a while despite being a highlight of Chanyeol’s childhood and the reason for his passion for huge robots.

Then one night brought Lee Kapjin to their house with a brown suitcase and a big wooden thing on his back and Chanyeol found something else to be amazed by.

Lee Kapjin was his mom’s brother, which meant he was Chanyeol’s uncle and Chanyeol found it extremely odd, because all of his uncles came with a wife and cousins for Chanyeol but Uncle Kapjin didn’t.

What he came with was what Chanyeol learned was called a guitar, and a whole box full of round plastic contraptions he called records that went round and round on the turntable in the kitchen.

The music they produced was something Chanyeol had never heard before. It was loud, fast and there was this sound like a cry that tied everything together like a pretty bow. It was different from his mom’s songs or whatever music he’d listened to on the radio before. It pulled at his heartstrings. Uncle Kapjin said it was called _rock_ and it was a kind music that came from the other side of the world.

When Uncle Kapjin brought a Shin Junghyun record home, Chanyeol listened to it until the vinyl was too worn out to work. What followed were The Key Boys, Salnurim, Metallica and Guns&Roses. Chanyeol had no idea where the foreign records came from but his mom didn’t approve. She even said she hoped for Uncle Kapjin to be caught in a _changbal tansok_ so that they would finally cut his hair and teach him a thing or two.

Chanyeol was twelve when Uncle Kapjin moved out to live with his mother in Yangsan. He didn’t cry, but he followed the truck, running to the end of the street with the weight of Uncle Kapjin’s guitar on his back.

What happened next and Chanyeol’s obsession for music was just a direct consequence of Uncle Kapjin leaving and Chanyeol’s mom stubbornly kicking her son out when he started to pluck at the strings of that instrument of the Devil.

Yoora mainly said he sucked.

There was, however, something that told Chanyeol he had to keep pushing forward. Until his awkward tickling of the strings turned into strums, and the strums became more confident as records were replaced by cassette tapes. Jiho tagged along somewhere along the way and stayed when Chanyeol panicked because he’d snapped a string, stayed when Chanyeol finally abandoned Uncle Kapjin’s guitar and used all his money on a real axe.

That _push_ , Chanyeol felt it throughout his adolescence. During his first performance with Jiho and when they created The Housewives with Kyungsoo and Sehun. Then the enthusiasm sort of died down somewhere between the gigs and real life. Chanyeol had started performing because he _knew_ how to rather than because he _wanted_ to. He’d thought he would never see nor feel that push again.

However seeing Baekhyun’s expression as he asked Chanyeol to teach him had reminded Chanyeol how insistent he’d been as a kid. How he’d chased Uncle Kapjin around the house begging him to play for him, or how he’d tortured his mother and sister with his untuned guitar.

The glint in Baekhyun’s eyes kept coming back to Chanyeol’s mind like a curse, along with the light tone of his voice.

He thought of it again and grimaced as he left the classroom after his lecture, Jeon Mingyu’s arm around his shoulder.

“Why aren’t you joining today, though? It’s a nice day, man. Hyung said he’ll treat us to jjajangmyeon later.” Mingyu slapped Chanyeol’s back to emphasize how much he wanted Chanyeol to go play. Chanyeol wasn’t having any of it.  


“I don’t feel like playing basketball today. Also it’s raining, Gyu-ya. You play, I’ll…” Chanyeol  let the sentence drop like that, then hinted at something behind his back.

“You’re no fun, man, no fun.” Mingyu didn’t loosen the grip on Chanyeol’s shoulders until Chanyeol was the one prying them off with an awkward smile and a series of mumbled excuses. He bowed several times while walking backwards until Mingyu bowed back to him and Chanyeol could relax.

He fished out his leather tobacco pouch from his pocket and stopped in the middle of the corridor for a couple of minutes. He religiously rolled his cigarette —his brows furrowed— then proceeded to walk out of the building, anticipating today’s rehearsals.

During a regular turn of events he would’ve left like that: hoodie pulled low over his face and hurried steps towards the Corner. However Chanyeol wanted to smoke, and no one smoked while walking in the rain, not in their country at least. So he turned left, under the porch leading to the back of the Chemistry building and, as usual, walked past the storage room and the labs towards his secret place.

He sort of expected it, although he kept convincing himself of the contrary until the end. He _expected_ to take that last turn and see Byun Baekhyun again. Somewhere deep inside, a small part of him may have even hoped for that outcome.

Chanyeol almost snorted when he saw him, in the same spot as last time. Today, however, his Gibson was safely kept in a soft case left against the wall and Byun Baekhyun was hugging his knees on top of the stairs, his eyes closed and his black hair slightly damp from the rain. There was still droplets of it on the lenses of his glasses.

Chanyeol closed the distance between them slowly, climbing up the steps one by one. Only when he was close enough, did he reached out with his hand. He hesitated for a moment, biting down the inside of his cheek, then went for it when Baekhyun’s head tilted to the side unconsciously in his slumber.

“Byun Baekhyun?” Chanyeol’s hand cupped the side of Baekhyun’s head and pushed it back in place carefully. “Byun Baekhyun, wake up.”

It took a few seconds, but Baekhyun jolted awake and groaned, moody. Then he blinked a couple of times, stirring and curling up on himself until Chanyeol could see Baekhyun’s eyes focus on him.

The air was chilly and Chanyeol could almost see the goosebumps disappear down Baekhyun’s neck.

“Oh, Park Chanyeol,” Baekhyun murmured, his arms latched to his chest. Something must’ve been wrong with Chanyeol because the way his name sounded as Baekhyun whispered it was just so soft, so intimate — it touched something secret deep inside him and left his throat constricted, like an invisible noose.

His own reaction was foreign to him, completely new and it was exasperating. Who was this Byun Baekhyun anyway?  “You took my nap spot again,” Chanyeol muttered in annoyance. Baekhyun scooted left a little and Chanyeol sat next to him — his knees cracking as he bent them. “Why are you here anyway? With that Gibson again.”

Baekhyun rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand through the frame of his glasses, then yawned without bothering to cover his mouth. “Park Chanyeol,” he started, as he searched for something inside his pocket. When he took it out and Chanyeol saw what it was, his head sunk low and he breathed out tiredly.

“I brought some money, so maybe you will teach me now?” Baekhyun’s face came dangerously close as he searched for Chanyeol’s eyes, then pouted slightly when Chanyeol finally met his with a non impressed gaze. “I thought about it and it’s only fair I pay you, if you teach me, so...”

“I won’t teach you.” Chanyeol sighed, then propped his elbows on the steps behind him as he stretched his legs down the stairs.

The money was tempting and Baekhyun seemed willing, but Chanyeol didn’t feel confident enough and Baekhyun didn’t sound convincing enough. Or maybe it was just Chanyeol being stubborn after all. He looked at the orange-y 50 thousand won note and mentally slapped himself for being such an idiot.

“But why?” Baekhyun asked, grabbing the sleeve of Chanyeol’s jacket once again, just like he’d done the first time they’d met. Chanyeol’s eyes went from the fingers curled around the fabric, to Byun Baekhyun’s furrowed brows.

He felt trapped. He stammered.

“I told you I...Have never taught anyone...” Chanyeol paused for a moment and met Baekhyun’s eyes just briefly. “...and you-”

“But you can teach me first,” Baekhyun cut in, insisting. “I’m a fast learner, Park Chanyeol. And I already know how to read the notes,” he added, and made it sound like Chanyeol had insulted him.

“Baekhyun, I said I can’t…” Chanyeol replied and he suddenly felt as if he’d run three marathons. Baekhyun, on the other hand, seemed to be in a good mood as he scavenged in the front pocket of the guitar case with enthusiasm. Chanyeol looked at him, it was distracting. Chanyeol was exhausted and he just wanted to smoke.

“Why do you want to learn from me so bad though? I told you, the club works just fine.”

Baekhyun never replied, shoving a plastic bag containing soft bread with red bean paste in it into Chanyeol’s lap with a wide, satisfied grin. “Here, eat this.”

“What is this…” Chanyeol breathed out helplessly once more. His gaze went low to the plastic wrapping of the bread, then again to Baekhyun’s lips. “Thank you I guess,” he murmured.

Baekhyun grinned, looking genuinely pleased. “I heard it’s your favorite. Definitely better than the food at the seminar, isn’t it?” He hugged his knees, then rested his chin on his own forearms. Chanyeol stared for a while, from the corner of his eyes.

“I was really happy you came to listen to my speech, by the way.” Baekhyun tapped his own arms distractedly and Chanyeol wasn’t sure why he was talking to him about the seminar again. “I was nervous because people weren’t paying attention to me at first.”

Baekhyun stole a fleeting glance.

“You didn’t look nervous at all.” It came out friendlier than Chanyeol would have intended, so he barricaded himself behind a deep sigh and a frown. “Maybe a bit crazy, but not nervous.”

Byun Baekhyun chuckled by himself as he turned his head to look at Chanyeol sideways. He was endearing even with his glasses a bit lopsided and Chanyeol had to make a physical effort to look away and tilt his head back.

“Look, Byun. You seem to take this guitar thing as a joke when it’s not.”

Baekhyun raised an eyebrow in response. “I don’t, I’m serious about it.”

Chanyeol ignored him, stubbornly continuing his own speech; giving himself reasons not to teach Baekhyun.  

“I don’t know why you want to learn and why from me of all people but...This is not a joke,” Chanyeol clarified once again and he felt more and more confident about what he was saying, seeing how Baekhyun’s expression stayed the same: neutral, with the vague hint of a smile. “That guitar is very expensive, you know? Just give it to someone who _really_ wants to learn.”

Baekhyun didn’t seem to have anything to say. He looked down, then nodded slightly and Chanyeol thought he’d won. He almost felt relieved, for a moment.

“...and to think I’d only come here to smoke. Is this settled now?” Chanyeol questioned, and felt a strange pull that forced him not to look away when Baekhyun shook his head and smiled.

“No, it’s not,” Baekhyun admitted. “But I have run out of weapons since you refused my money and the bread wasn’t enough.”

Baekhyun had just thrown his speech to the wind and Chanyeol wanted to slap him. “I’ll try again, when I think of something else.”

“No! You don’t understand,” Chanyeol sprung to sit up, ready to explain it all again, but  Baekhyun wasn’t listening anymore. Instead, he was curling up on one side, bundling up his scarf to stick it between his head and shoulder to use it as a pillow.

“Can I nap some more? Wake me up in fifteen minutes, when you’re done with your cigarette.” He hadn’t bothered taking his glasses off, even with the possibility that they would dig into his cheekbone where it pressed into the scarf.

Chanyeol was almost tempted to tell him to go to hell, and that a cigarette takes a lot less than fifteen minutes to smoke, but Baekhyun had curled all up against the wall and Chanyeol just didn’t have the heart to do it.  


.

 

Chanyeol thought he had escaped the curse when he walked down the corridor to his secret place to find it empty for the third time in a row — no trace of Byun Baekhyun, no trace of his Gibson ES-330 and his controversial speeches about dead people and criminal presidents.

Chanyeol should’ve felt relief wash over him each time he sat on the steps, head cradled between his hands — he was finally allowed to nap in peace, no one asking him for free classes out of the blue; no glasses, no red scarves.

 _Peace_.

Scratch that, he got no peace.

All he felt was this constant feeling of restlessness gnawing at his stomach. He started asking himself questions about why the stairwell was empty after a week or so, only to chastise himself for it. He didn’t care, he didn’t _want_ to care about where Byun Baekhyun, his speeches and his glasses were.

 _Why_ would he care, anyway?

“You’re _so_ out of it,” Kyungsoo commented, lightly elbowing him in the hip as they left the University side gate and strolled past the ahjummas giving out flyers next to the _takoyaki_ stall. It was a Thursday, that day of the week when The Housewives rehearsed until evening, then sat on the floor to eat _jjajangmyeon_.

Chanyeol stumbled to the side and grunted something under his breath, his hands stuck in his pockets. Something red flashed next to him, and Chanyeol instinctively looked up, then his eyes darted to look behind his shoulder.

A girl with a red headband giggled into her friend’s shoulder and Chanyeol sighed for being such an idiot.

“Hello? Did you hear me?” Kyungsoo insisted, then groaned in annoyance. “Fuck ParkChan can you-” Kyungsoo grabbed Chanyeol’s arm, then pulled him over to the side of the street, just in time for a bike to rush past them. “I don’t want to die today, alright?,” Kyungsoo pushed him away immediately.

“Sorry,” Chanyeol mumbled belatedly, his eyes to the street.

The air was crisp, the area around the university bustling with life. The students seemed livelier, the colors brighter. Chanyeol turned his head a little and was met with Kyungsoo’s pissed and inquisitive expression.

“What’s wrong with your face, huh? You look like you haven’t taken a dump in two months.” Kyungsoo squinted his eyes a little behind thick specs, then sniffled up with his nose. “There’s something wrong with you.”

Chanyeol shrugged it off, “This is how my face usually looks,” he replied with exaggerated honorifics in the sentence. Kyungsoo didn’t laugh back.

“Nah, I don’t know. Your face is usually more...like it It makes people want to punch you?”

“Wow, thank you, I’m flattered,” Chanyeol clipped back without the slightest change of expression — he’d pushed it with the honorifics again.

Kyungsoo fished out a cigarette from his pocket, lit it, then took a drag. “What was that kid’s name again? Bang? Bae?,” Kyungsoo threw in nonchalantly, looking up slightly to meet Chanyeol’s eyes.

Chanyeol looked straight. He could almost see the door to The Corner — the street lights flickering on as the sky grew darker. “It was Byun, Byun Baekhyun.” He paused for a moment, enough to bring some life back into his voice. “And what do you know about him? You weren’t ther-”

“Chill man, Sehunie told me,” Kyungsoo cut in, then handed the cigarette over to Chanyeol for him to take a drag himself. “He said it finally looked like you had some kind of interest outside music and...music, yeah.”

Chanyeol snorted, “Sehun should keep that mouth shut. What interest are we talking about? I don’t give a shit about politics,” he complained, his brain automatically linking Byun Baekhyun with the only time Sehun had seen him at the seminar.

Kyungsoo took his cigarette back with a confused expression. “Why politics? I meant the kid. Byun Whatever.”

“Sehun should take his head out of his ass and think thrice before spitting out bullshit,” Chanyeol clipped back with a little more venom than he’d intended. He pushed away whatever flash of Byun Baekhyun’s face had gotten to his mind.

Kyungsoo kicked him in the shin. “Be nice,” he warned.

They closed the distance between themselves and The Corner in silence, though Chanyeol felt Kyungsoo’s eyes on him all the way there.

 

.

 

“Go on,” Kyungsoo prompted, pushing Chanyeol’s guitar —and him— slightly while they went down the moldy stairs of the building in almost complete darkness.

The Corner was in the basement of a four storey building five minutes or so from school, which meant that it was also ten minutes or so from Chanyeol, Kyungsoo and Sehun’s current places. There was a naengmyeong restaurant at ground level and the above floors were regular apartments — which implied the presence of the casual ahjumma complaining about the noise.

Chanyeol liked it because of the way the sound jumped off the walls; it made their music sound better, somehow. It wasn’t completely soundproof, of course, no matter how many egg cartons and bedsheets they’d used on the walls, but it was home and Chanyeol had quickly gotten used to it since day one.

Chanyeol was familiar with the noises of The Corner — as they all called it because of the position of the building — he knew by heart how Kyungsoo’s drum kit sounded inside the cramped room, how loud they needed to talk for their voices to be heard over the sound of their instruments, how after Zico had left there was no one who could play the guitar there, apart from him.

However it was definitely the sound of a guitar that he heard before opening the door to the basement and he _knew_ something was off, but Kyungsoo was pushing him inside already and there was no way to avoid it. Chanyeol felt much like someone walking down a plank.

“Oh, hello,” Byun Baekhyun greeted and Chanyeol turned around, only to clash with Kyungsoo and be forced inside again.

“Come on Chanyeol, move,” Kyungsoo prompted and he moved in while Chanyeol stood there like an idiot. He didn’t know whether he wanted to laugh or cry.

“What is _he_ doing here?” he searched the room until he found Sehun sitting on the floor with his cassette player and headphones plugged in. He removed one and looked up confusedly, then something seemed to light up on his face and he flicked his shoulder lightly.

“He’s been buzzing around me like a fucking mosquito for more than a week, I have no idea what you’ve done to him but…” Sehun lifted his arms in defeat and Chanyeol groaned as he palmed his face.

“Byun…” he started. Byun Baekhyun looked up and for once he wasn’t smiling. He looked almost upset. “...I told you I’m not gonna teach you.”

Baekhyun didn’t say a thing, he kept sitting on the floor in the mess of papers and notebooks and cables — Kyungsoo’s kit in one corner, Sehun and Chanyeol’s mics and amps circling it. Baekhyun lowered his gaze to his Gibson and Chanyeol’s breath stopped in his throat when he noticed the position of Baekhyun’s right hand was the correct one for a D chord.

He swallowed thickly when Baekhyun looked up and met his eyes in a challenging, smug gaze, then he strummed and the sound reverberated in the room like Chanyeol knew it would. It was perfectly in tune.

“I went to the club,” he said after that. “Still want _you_ to teach me more”

 

.

 

“We’re gonna perform for you, but you need to be quiet,” Chanyeol reminded as he glared towards Baekhyun sitting on the floor like an eager elementary school student, or the devil himself judging from his grin. Chanyeol wanted to punch him with his guitar, and he probably would have if his guitar wasn’t extremely expensive.

“Can they hear us from upstairs?” Baekhyun asked, completely ignoring Chanyeol’s warning and gesturing vaguely at the sheets and the industrial carpeting on the floor. Chanyeol huffed back, nervously. He wasn’t sure what about Byun Baekhyun made him so ready to snap. Probably having him right there in front of his eyes, in his personal space. Chanyeol opened his mouth to say something but Kyungsoo replied before he managed to.

“The idea was to have a place where Skid Row could play without other people hearing us. Chanyeol’s dad even helped with the wooden planks under that carpet,” he explained as he moved around in his drum kit. “It doesn’t work too well, though.”

Baekhyun nodded in understanding. “It’s good enough,” Sehun added quietly. Something was wrong with his bass today, but he didn’t look too worried about it. The Housewives were famous for being _adaptable_ anyway — which sounded very much like disorganized.

They didn’t have a real PA — no proper mixing desk nor a decent amplifier — but they’d run a single microphone through a little mixer Kyungsoo had brought down to the Corner a few months earlier and used his drum machine as a speaker for output. Baekhyun had gaped during the whole preparation of the rehearsal set up and by the time they were finally done, he was already sitting there with his own guitar across his lap. It seemed to Chanyeol that Baekhyun’s hands were itching to play.

Chanyeol looked at Kyungsoo sitting behind his cymbals; at Sehun picking at his bass strings and playing impromptu stuff Chanyeol had no idea of what it was whatsoever — which was typical of Sehun, really — and finally at Baekhyun, who sat cross-legged on the floor looking up, expectantly. His eyes were shining, they made Chanyeol’s stomach play tricks on him and he wasn’t sure how to handle that.

So he didn’t, and sort of welcomed it. When Byun Baekhyun’s lips cracked an encouraging grin, Chanyeol grinned back. “Aa-lright! He said, and he slung on his guitar.

They kicked off a little hesitant, mostly because it was the first time they’d welcomed someone into the Corner who wasn’t Jiho after he’d left the band or Kyungsoo’s roommate Jongin. The song they decided to start with was Nirvana’s “Lithium”.

Chanyeol started it with the guitar kept pared down and waited for the familiar beat of Kyungsoo’s drums to start singing the first few lines incredibly simply, almost giving nothing of _his_ to the melody, letting the guitar and the drum do their job of harmonization.

The first stark change came with the chorus, when Kyungsoo went harsh on the cymbals and started alternating between bass drum and acoustic snare with such determination that anyone who didn’t know Kyungsoo would’ve thought he was angry. Chanyeol yelled into the microphone following the chorus, then quickly turned towards Sehun when the second verse started and the crisp notes of his bass joined the flow.

They transitioned into the bridge swiftly and the atmosphere changed completely. Chanyeol moved from a relatively calm verse into a frenetic bridge. The rhythm of the song itself was confusing, full of up and downs and Chanyeol felt it somehow penetrate his emotions as well. Whatever ambivalent message the song wanted to convey, Chanyeol sang it out with the same bitterness and frustration he felt through the music. He let some fuzz sneak into his guitar mix, then during the second chorus he let his eyes wander the room to meet Baekhyun’s.

Byun Baekhyun was beaming and Chanyeol had never felt so excited during a rehearsal before. His heart was beating in his throat and he unconsciously smiled while singing, almost missing the beat for the outro. Baekhyun smiled back, almost in complicity — it was endearing; it was perfect.

Chanyeol threw himself into the outro with enthusiasm and they recapped before the final fade. The song was over, Chanyeol’s head hung low as he panted. This adrenaline rush, he hadn’t felt it for a while.

“Awright,” Sehun said as he stretched his arms above his head.

“Not too bad, was it?” Kyungsoo continued. Chanyeol was almost sure he was talking to Baekhyun at this point.

When he looked up, Baekhyun had come closer to Chanyeol — dangerously close.

“What did...How was it?” Chanyeol stammered — he couldn’t get rid of the grin on his face.

Byun Baekhyun, glasses and all, had the fury of a madman in his eyes. He rested both his hands on the side of Chanyeol’s axe, then looked at him with the intensity of fifty explosions or something. “It was awesome Park Chanyeol. It was...awesome.” He must have giggled, or laughed Chanyeol couldn’t remember. “Please, play another one,” he asked.

Chanyeol didn’t refuse.


	3. Track 02

**Track 02**

 

Byun Baekhyun was quiet on the way back from the rehearsals. The streetlights drew shadows of lace on his face and reflected dimly on the lenses of his glasses. Chanyeol observed carefully as Baekhyun smiled, then tilted his head back just slightly and finally met Chanyeol’s gaze. “That was cool,” he said — it sounded honest.

Chanyeol pretended not to feel his ears and neck grow warm; he made a guttural noise that should’ve been a _thanks_ but sounded more like a stomach rumbling.   
There was close to no one on the streets of Jaegi-dong and Chanyeol had no idea why he was walking Byun Baekhyun back — Kyungsoo had glared at him and left in his car with Sehun without much explanation. Chanyeol had found himself walking next to Baekhyun a few minutes after.

“Do I have to take you all the way to the subway stop?” he asked curtly, after a long moment of silence. Chanyeol had expected Baekhyun to be all bubbly and talkative. He had been, during the rehearsals. He’d even asked for a couple of very specific songs and they’d had to improvise. It had been worth it though, Baekhyun was smiling and chuckling — though with a vaguely sad smile. He’d even tried a very lame number on Kyungsoo’s drum kit, until Chanyeol had managed to pry him off of it.

“Mh?” Baekhyun looked up, then shook his head. “No, it’s fine. I live down the street, we just need to turn left over there, near the market.” He gestured with his arm and Chanyeol squinted his eyes to figure out what shady alleyway Baekhyun was pointing at.

“Goshiwon?”

“No, it’s a hasuk-jib. I wanted a one-room honestly, but I didn’t have enough money to afford it. I barely manage the rent for this place as it is,” his lips curled up. “Do you live close to the campus as well?” Chanyeol confusedly stared at the expensive guitar on Baekhyun’s back and the fairly new clothes he was wearing. He didn’t look like someone who was short on money, not that desperately anyway.

“No, not really.” He started, hesitant. Baekhyun stole a glance, as if he was asking Chanyeol to share some more info. Chanyeol cleared his throat, averted his gaze — Byun Baekhyun’s eyes were particularly bright despite the darkness. “Sehun lives on his own. Over there. You see that building the red...pink? Yeah pink one?” Chanyeol pointed at one particular building and he could see Baekhyun trying to focus on it. He nodded, he could see it. “He lives there?”

“Yeah, and Kyungsoo lives the farthest, with his roommate. I live with my family, close to Dongdaemun-gu,” Chanyeol replied belatedly and it was Baekhyun’s turn to hum. An awkward silence followed, as they walked past the closed doors of a pharmacy, then one shop selling televisions.

Whereas other areas of the city were still living in a period of economic boom and great industrialization, things didn’t look so bright in this particular area of the city. Yoora used to tease Chanyeol a lot because the only thing you could possibly do near K. University was study — Chanyeol agreed though, sort of. There _was_ nothing there, Yoora wasn’t wrong. The big canal splitting Jaegi-dong into two areas looked like an empty pit of darkness that night; the air was chilly enough for Chanyeol to fold his arms over his chest, then distractedly peek at Baekhyun burying his nose into the high neck of his white and green sweater.

“You guys were really awesome. I don’t know what I was expecting exactly, but...definitely not that.” Baekhyun offered with enthusiasm — his voice muffled by the fabric of the sweater. Chanyeol would’ve been lying if he said he didn’t feel at least a little proud. He snorted, then shook his head in denial.

“Are you saying you were expecting us to be shit?”

Baekhyun swallowed whatever he was gonna say, then chortled. “...Yes. Sorry you aren’t exactly the portrait of a rock player and Oh Sehun...He doesn’t even like rock music.”

Chanyeol groaned in agreement. “Did he tell you that?”

Baekhyun shook his head. “No, I spied on what he was listening to while I was trying to bribe him to take me to the rehearsals.”

“The bastard. I should’ve warned him,” Chanyeol spit out, but there wasn’t bite in his voice.

“I bought him food for a week and _the bastard_ has expensive taste buds. But I’m glad it worked.”

Chanyeol noticed a vague smile breaking through the boy’s lips — they were slightly chapped, very fine. The mole was still there, in the corner, like it was hiding a secret; it baffled Chanyeol how he could find a dot so interesting. The smile itself was sad, as if Baekhyun was the keeper of some dark secret or he was carrying a huge weight on his back.

“We usually suck, to be honest,” Chanyeol confessed, looking straight ahead. He did notice Baekhyun’s surprise to his right.

“Huh? So I was right?” Baekhyun grinned, amused.

Chanyeol chuckled, then cleared his throat sheepishly when he realized he’d let his pride go. “Yeah, you were right. And it’s true, Sehun doesn’t like rock music. You should’ve seen him when he entered the band, that’s a great story to tell, actually.”

“And will you tell me?”

“Maybe, one day,” Chanyeol said, with an air of mystery. It wasn’t a mystery really, but the way Baekhyun’s expression changed into one of expectation made Chanyeol feel challenged, like he wanted to tease.

“Oh, c’mon man?!” Baekhyun complained, then hit Chanyeol rather harshly on his arm. “You can’t throw the stone and hide the hand like this, that’s trashy.”

Chanyeol slowly rubbed his arm as he turned to glare to Baekhyun. “Do you hit every stranger who doesn’t want to tell you stuff?”

“You’re not a stranger,” Baekhyun deadpanned with a shrug.

“No, right. You’ve stalked me and my friend for a while to get into _my_ band rehearsals. I go in and find you sitting on _my_ cushion on the floor in _my_ basement, playing a guitar which is completely out of tune. Yeah, I guess I must not be a stranger to you.”

“Cruel,” Baekhyun muttered. “And my guitar wasn’t out of tune.”

“It wasn’t in tune either.”

“It was tuned enough and you seemed pretty impressed with that chord I played. I saw your face, ya know.”

Chanyeol opened his mouth to say something, then closed it again, at a loss for words. He looked at Baekhyun, trying to decide whether he wanted to slap him or push him into the wall — he didn’t know with what purpose yet, he just knew he wanted to bite back and he didn’t know how. Chanyeol was a simple person, he was constantly owned by Kyungsoo and Sehun and he had gotten used to that. The reactions Baekhyun ignited were different though; he riled him up and made him feel ashamed at the same time.

Chanyeol felt his face go red, he lowered his head in a single, abrupt movement and scoffed.

Chanyeol kicked a small pebble on the street and stuck his hands in his pockets. Baekhyun was stealing glances at him with a smug grin, paying only half a mind to the cars and the trees in front of him. It made Chanyeol antsy. He kept chewing on his bottom lip, thinking of something to say despite knowing Baekhyun had clearly won this time.

“Are you mad now, man?,” Baekhyun teased, leaning in closer. “I was just joking, I know you don’t like me at all. But I tried, with the guitar. I really want to learn.” He sounded sincere for once; he breathed out slowly in defeat.

Chanyeol didn’t know why he felt the immediate need to disagree and to clarify that he _didn’t dislike Baekhyun_ , it was more complicated than that. Too complicated for Chanyeol to try and give it some sense. “That’s not it,” he said, shaking his head. “And…I’m not mad...man.”

Baekhyun laughed a little louder at Chanyeol echoing his words and patted him on the shoulder in a gesture of camaraderie. Chanyeol unconsciously followed his movements when Baekhyun wandered a little too far right, closer to the car lane.

“Can I come again?” he asked.

Chanyeol wasn’t completely taken aback by the question. If anything he’d seen it coming given the way Baekhyun was watching them in awe during the rehearsals. The Baekhyun sitting on the floor of The Corner hugging his guitar and humming to the music was a very different Baekhyun from the one Chanyeol had seen during the seminar, giving his speech. That Baekhyun was invested, charming and very controlled. This Baekhyun, the Baekhyun Chanyeol had seen today was relaxed, carefree and even now as they were walking together, something had changed again.

It was intriguing, Chanyeol wanted to know more and at the same time run away as fast as possible. Baekhyun met his eyes through his specs and smiled softly, almost shy in comparison to the cheerful display Chanyeol had just seen. It made Chanyeol’s mouth go dry and his breath itch. He wondered if he’d ever felt this nervous before around others, if it wasn’t just normal for him to feel this jittery and excited as he tried to compose himself and just _be normal_. “No, you can’t” Chanyeol answered.

Baekhyun’s face fell for a moment, imperceptibly but definitely there in the way his eyes didn’t wrinkle at the corners. “Why…?”

It felt wrong. It _was_ wrong. Chanyeol remembered the people talking over Baekhyun during the speech and how now, thinking about it in retrospect, that had felt wrong too. He bit down on the inside of his cheek.

“I don’t know-” he started, but never finished what he wanted to say.

Someone honked loudly from behind them before Chanyeol could notice the lights of the car approaching — the sound was loud enough to echo in the deserted street. He didn’t have the time to formulate a warning — he just grabbed Baekhyun’s elbow and pulled him closer.

Close enough for Baekhyun to bump into him with a surprised huff, close enough for Chanyeol to instinctively wrap a hand around Baekhyun’s shoulder and hesitate half-way through. “Sorry,” he murmured, “...the car…this happened to me earlier today and Kyungsoo had to save my ass,” when he noticed how Baekhyun was looking at him askance.

Baekhyun cleared his throat as he created some distance again. Had Chanyeol been too creepy all of a sudden? Maybe he had. It was something he would’ve done for Sehun and Kyungsoo, he wouldn’t have thought about it twice and instead here he was, considering; being slightly flustered.

“Thanks,” Baekhyun said quietly after a while. He looked up and Chanyeol followed his eyes until he noticed they were probably very close to Baekhyun’s hasuk-jib — he could see the street sign being swallowed by three restaurants and a noraebang sign. Chanyeol cringed at the thought of trying to sleep in the same building as a noraebang — he wondered if Baekhyun could even sleep at all, if he used earplugs. He never gathered enough courage to ask as he swallowed again, as Baekhyun walked a little closer now and their arms touched every now and then.

“Why can’t I come back to the rehearsals?”

Chanyeol sighed. “I told you, go to the music club. You’ll learn stuff much faster if you really want to do something with that guitar.”

“But I will,” Baekhyun insisted. “I told you, I went and I plan to keep going. But I want to see you guys play, I could even help a little if you need piano or something. Isn’t it a good idea?”

 _It’s the worst_ , Chanyeol thought and almost spat it out.

“Look it’s... the first time in ages I was exactly where I wanted to be. Let me come watch again. I’ll watch and learn and go to the club too. And maybe if I come and watch every single time you guys can suck...a little less. Just like today.”

“You _think_ that we sucked less because you were there” Chanyeol scoffed, as they closed the distance to Baekhyun’s hasuk-jib. Someone was sitting downstairs smoking a cigarette. He nodded when he saw Baekhyun and Baekhyun bowed with a bit more commitment.

“No, I know.” Baekhyun grinned in response, belatedly. “Because Kyungsoo said so.”

“I hate my friends.”

“Do I interpret your answer as _Yes Baekhyun, come watch whenever you want?_?” Baekhyun sounded playful and a little teasing, which Chanyeol much preferred to that longing air he got when they had left The Corner.

“I want you to know how to tune your guitar and learn some more chords by the time you come back. If you really want to learn, I want you to take it seriously,” Chanyeol replied, ignoring the fact that the guy smoking was eyeing them every now and then. “I’m saying this because that guitar you have is great, you should make it count.”

“You _really_ don’t like me, do you?” Baekhyun asked, half amused, half somewhat upset. “I’ll do my best. For the guitar,” he continued, sarcastic. “It’s very important to me, so...I’ll make it count. It’s a promise.”

Baekhyun walked inside after a few minutes and Chanyeol waited until a light on the second floor turned on before he left. He pulled up the hood of his parka as he peeked one more time towards Baekhyun’s window, then started to walk back home, taking his time. Spring seemed to be finally near, the air smelled nice and the wind wasn’t so cold compared to the beginning of the month. Chanyeol remembered Baekhyun hiding his nose into the neck of his sweater — the mischievous glint of his eyes as he looked through the lenses of his glasses — and wondered why Baekhyun had promised _him_ he would try hard with the guitar. They barely knew each other, promising something like that to Chanyeol felt much like an empty promise.

It took Chanyeol a big serving of Kimchi Jjigae and the whole night staring at the empty ceiling to figure out that maybe Baekhyun’s promise wasn’t for _him_ after all.

For some reason, and unexpectedly, the realization stung.

 

.

 

Mornings at Chanyeol’s house were never slow, as in every house with an energetic mother setting the rhythm for her husband, son and daughter. That implied that Chanyeol was forced to spend all of his early mornings in the living room, eating his rice and soup, more asleep than awake. _Our Yeolmae looks like a desert fox in the mornings_ his mother would tease him from the kitchen. _Your eyes are usually so big, what did you do with them son?_ She said this often enough for Chanyeol not to take any offence — and he was too drowsy to react anyway.

Some soup was dripping down the side of Chanyeol’s mouth and he was pretty sure he had a couple of grains of rice sticking to his chin. Park Chanyeol never functioned properly in the morning, despite the smell of soup and freshly cooked rice.

“Wow, you’re really ugly in the mornings ParkChan,” Yoora said, lowering to sit next to him on the floor, their backs to the sofa. She looked at him for a long moment, then made a frustrated, acute noise from her throat.

“What?” Chanyeol asked, and he sounded more like a caveman than a real person.

Yoora shrugged, then pushed his head forward with force, for no apparent reason. “Oi, eat properly, ...ahh Ma! Chanyeol is making a mess with his food,” she yelled and Chanyeol groaned in response, ran the back of his sleeve over his lips, then pushed her away. She put up some resistance, but just ended up screeching like a banshee when Chanyeol pulled at the bun she’d tied her hair up in.

“Ma Chanyeol’s pulling my hair!”

“Maaa..” Chanyeol whined louder. “Yoora has spent her money buying Seo Taeji cassettes again!”

Yoora gasped and she suddenly hit Chanyeol harder on the back of his head. The sound resonated in the room just a moment before Lee Youngmi — their mother — started yelling too. “I swear you’ll make me age faster! I’m not even fifty and I look like I’m eighty because of the two of you.” She threw her kitchen rag on the counter, then darted towards them and Chanyeol was ready to escape already — suddenly very awake.

He scrambled up until he was curled into the corner of the sofa, still with his bowl of rice in one hand and a spoon in the other.

“Clean that mouth of yours, you’re not an animal Park Chanyeol,” Youngmi warned, and Chanyeol hurried to really clean his chin with the hem of his shirt. He was pretty calm, though, he even distractedly looked at the tv and took a spoonful of rice. It was Yoora that was in relatively big trouble — relatively big because Lee Youngmi didn’t approve of her children spending money on useless things, but did nothing more than scold them. Her husband, though… Chanyeol recalled with a chill the day he ripped all of Yoora posters and threw away half of her cassettes. Chanyeol’s dad wasn’t always present, but when he was, he could be very scary.

“No Mom! Mom I swear, Mom don’t tell Dad Mom!” Yoora was kneeling in front of her mom, rubbing her hands while the woman sighed and lightly hit her head. “Mom it’s his fault, Mom! Ma please Ma, I’ll do all the chores! Ma it’s all Chanyeol’s fault, he was pulling my hair. You know it hurts Ma!”

Youngmi sighed. “Hide that stuff where your father can’t see it. And don’t hit your brother,” She suddenly looked at both of them in warning. “If I hear a fly in this room the second I go over there again, you’re not having lunch _nor_ dinner.”

Yoora slumped to the floor again, looking a little more relaxed in her sweats and low tank-top — Chanyeol always thought she dressed a little too provocatively and even reminded her of that every now and then. Chanyeol had inevitably become immune to boobs because of her, or so he had convinced himself. When he’d told his sister she’d just called him an idiot, and that had been the end of it — she hadn’t wanted to take responsibility for it, the witch.

“You’re dead if you tell Dad,” she muttered. Chanyeol stretched his leg across the sofa until he could poke her head with his toe. He snickered and ate another spoonful of rice at the exact moment Yoora turned around, ending up poking her cheek.

“PARK CHANYEOL!” she screamed at the top of her lungs, then stood up and started hitting Chanyeol while Chanyeol curled up laughing, spitting rice here and there. He managed to salvage his bowl of rice, keeping it close to his stomach as he laughed and half choked on what he’d just swallowed. “Wh-what?” he half laughed, half asked.  
  
“YOU ARE DISGUSTING, A PIG, TRASH, YOU’RE TRASH!” she kept yelling and throwing weak blows at Chanyeol’s legs and shoulders. “MA??”

Youngmi looked at them and took a deep breath — for some reason Chanyeol predicted what would come. “Get your asses out of here now, both of you. Out.” Chanyeol pushed Yoora away easily and proceeded to walk towards the backyard. He opened the screen window and walked just a few steps to sit on the edge of the porch. He snickered when he noticed he could still hear Yoora howling from inside the house

Chanyeol liked the backyard when he could bask in the sun under the porch. Uncle Kapjin used to play his guitar there when Chanyeol was a kid. He still came to visit sometimes when Chanyeol’s mother called him to help clean the backyard. That day the sun wasn’t particularly strong and Chanyeol wasn’t in the mood for the usual backyard chill.

His mind kept straying away to dangerous thoughts — mostly Byun Baekhyun related thoughts. Questions Chanyeol couldn’t answer by himself, and that annoyed him. It annoyed him that he couldn’t concentrate, that he unconsciously kept looking for Baekhyun even in situations where Baekhyun definitely wasn’t going to appear out of nowhere. Baekhyun, his cherry red guitar, his thinly framed glasses and that peculiar light in his eyes contrasting with the general softness of his persona.

Chanyeol knew _nothing_ about him.

He groaned as he munched on his last spoonful of rice. _Something was definitely wrong with Chanyeol_.

“What’s with that face again? Have you killed someone?” Yoora finally sat next to him as she untied her hair. It had reached her waist already — pitch black, straight hair. Yoora was very pretty, she always had been. Chanyeol didn’t see the appeal, to be completely honest, but according to his friends Yoora was considered popular amongst the guys for reasons Chanyeol didn’t really understand — he couldn’t possibly, not when he knew how disgusting it was to pick up Yoora’s hair from the drain after she’d showered or how annoying it was being sent to the convenience store in the middle of the night to buy pads.

Chanyeol shook his head lightly. “Nothing, just thinking.”

“Not about murder, right?”

“Stop it,” he scoffed and pushed her lightly with his own shoulder. “You’d have much more potential as a murderer than I would.”

She turned her head slowly with quite the pissed off expression, her brows furrowed and her lips all crumpled up in a grimace. Chanyeol laughed at her face, then kept laughing with his head hung low. She huffed, annoyed. “What?”

“Your brows… are you Crayon Shin-chan, Noona?”

He kept chuckling even when she slapped his head again — it didn’t hurt, not that much, but Chanyeol blamed her blows to his head as the reasons for his headaches and not passing exams. “Shut up, Chanpig.”

Chanyeol did shut up, for a few seconds. “Crayon Shin-chan,” he whispered to himself. This time Yoora snorted with him, then sort of laughed belatedly. She leaned back onto her arms, then exhaled slowly.

“So, what’s wrong? Are you gonna spit it out?”

Chanyeol swallowed and felt the back of his neck grow warm for some reason. He frowned in confusion, then shrugged. Yoora stared at him in askance, nudging at his shin with her bare foot. “So? You are acting weird lately Park Chanyeol, you can’t hide stuff from me.”

“It’s nothing, really.”

Chanyeol stretched until he was lying down next to Yoora on the wooden porch. He felt her index finger poke him in the hip once, then again and again. He groaned in frustration, closing his eyes. “Ah Noona drop it!”

“Is it some girl?”

When Chanyeol opened his eyes, Yoora’s face was close enough to his to be scary. He made a disgusted noise of surprise. “Noona...please...I think I’ll have nightmares tonight. No, it’s not a girl. I study Chemistry, remember? The only girl I’ve seen in the last year is... you. And Shiah, from Jongdeok’s venue, remember? Yoona noona doesn’t count, she’s like you but nicer.”

“Yoo Shiah? Isn’t she like...twelve?”

“Seventeen, actually.” Chanyeol clarified with no real interest in his voice. Yoo Shiah was just a name for him and he hadn’t thought about her for days at this point. Yoora’s expression swayed between horrified and amused.

“No, Park Chanyeol. She’s seventeen, you can’t. It’s a crime. You idiot, what the hell are you thinking?” She was ready to hit him again and Chanyeol recoiled, curling up on one side to avoid her blows.

“Noona, I said it’s not a girl. And it’s definitely not Shiah and- stop it with the hitting, fuck!”

When Chanyeol finally uncurled to meet her eyes, Yoora looked particularly smug for bringing Chanyeol to the point of cursing. “So what is it? Tell Noona.” She turned around so she had both her feet on Chanyeol’s leg — he sighed, then shook his leg so that her feet slid off his pants.

“Noona how was I when I started playing?”

“What?”

“When I started playing the guitar, how was I?” Chanyeol repeated, glancing towards her.

Yoora’s lips curled down as they always did when she was thinking about something, then she flicked her shoulders and went back to looking at the yard. “I don’t know...you kept doing ting ting ting noises with that thing...And then you barged in my room and said you’d do a concert for me. Alone.” She even mimed Chanyeol playing, moving her fingers. “You were very insistent with Mom until she let you torture that poor guitar. You _really_ couldn’t play. I think it’s because you wanted to play rock music and you didn’t know where to start from.”

Chanyeol remembered that. He remembered sitting in front of the TV while his parents were watching the news, and plucking the strings of uncle Kapjin’s guitar because he wanted to play Sweet Child O’Mine. His mom or dad would alternatively yell at him, then kick him out to the back garden so that he could make some more noise without disturbing them. Sometimes the neighbors complained too because Chanyeol was _that bad_.

“I just remember wanting to learn so bad. I went to that disc shop close to school to listen to Guns ‘n’ Roses and The X then suddenly Mom decided to let me have classes and I started.”

“That was Dad, actually,” Yoora clipped back.

“Was it?” Chanyeol sat up in surprise. “Dad?!”

“Yeah, Uncle Kapjin convinced him and Mom and Dad sent you there. And you helped Woo Jiho learn. At some point you weren’t that terrible anymore, so I let you perform in my room and that was kinda cute. Cute chubby Park Chanpig pretending to be a rockstar.”

Chanyeol sighed, stretching on the porch like a cat and flopping to lie down.

The image of an enthusiastic Byun Baekhyun asking him for classes out of the blue flashed into his mind. Chanyeol had wanted to be stubborn until the end, however the light in Baekhyun’s eyes when he asked repeatedly was sincere. Baekhyun _wanted_ to learn as bad as he said. _It was important to him_ he’d said. Chanyeol only had a vague idea of what that implied and of course, giving classes to someone who’d never played guitar before was a bit of a challenge — and a _burden_. However Baekhyun grabbing his shirt, desperate to the point of bribing him with money, then food… his insistence reminded Chanyeol of when he was a kid, when all he knew was that he wanted to play and it didn’t matter that he had to bother people for it.

Also, Baekhyun had chosen _him_.

“Why, all of a sudden?” Yoora asked after a few moments of silence. “Don’t tell me you don’t like playing anymore.”

Chanyeol shook his head slowly. “No...it’s just some kid. He wants to learn, he asked me to teach him and...I don’t know, it’s bothersome.”

“ _That_ got you thinking so hard? Just say no and call it a day if you’re not sure.”

Chanyeol snorted. _If only_ it was that easy to get rid of Byun Baekhyun. It felt like the kid had gotten under his skin before Chanyeol could realize it.

“I tried, trust me. He’s insisting.” he shared, a bit tentatively. Yoora laughed as she stood up, then scratched her back distractedly.

“That just means you met your match, ParkChan. There’s nothing tragic about it.”

Yoora patted his head before going back inside with heavy steps and the elegance of an elephant. Chanyeol followed her with his eyes until she closed the door to her room and he was left alone with his thoughts once more.

 _Met your match_. Chanyeol thought about that and concluded that it was true, but it couldn’t be all there was to Byun Baekhyun that kept pulling Chanyeol in.

 _It just couldn’t_.

What frustrated him the most was that the more he tried to escape that pull, the more he found himself stuck.

 

.

 

It was too cold and humid to play basketball on the open basketball field near the second school cafeteria, but Myungsoo sunbae had asked along with Haeyoung hyung and Chanyeol hadn’t known how to refuse. He wasn’t in the mood for playing; his head was all over the place, it had been for days

He made the ball bounce once, twice, glancing rapidly towards the two players from the opponent team on both his sides. Sehun met his eyes from the far left and Chanyeol attempted a pass, only managing to get the ball snatched by Myungsoo sunbae.

“Hyung! What the hell?,” Sehun yelled, right when Myungsoo shot the ball through the basket and scored. The other two guys in his team high fived him and patted him on the back, while Sehun closed his distance from Chanyeol with a frown.

“You’re playing like shit today, what the hell happened to you, hyung?”

Chanyeol shook his head in frustration, then rubbed his forehead with the back of his sleeve. He was dripping with sweat and they hadn’t even been playing for so long. Chanyeol thought that he was either coming up with something or he was losing his mind.

“I don’t know, I’m sorry. I must not be feeling well,” Chanyeol explained nervously, breathing heavily. He passed his hand through his hair with an irritated huff. The other team was close to winning, but there was still hope for their team to end the match with a tie at least.

“It’s fine, they can win this one,” Haeyoung hyung offered, trying to somehow encourage Chanyeol but having exactly the opposite effect.

“No, let’s try to win this. C’mon,” Chanyeol said, then zipped his sweater all the way up to his neck and signaled to the other team that they were ready to start again. He felt both Sehun and Haeyoung hyung throwing worried looks towards him — he even saw Sehun shake his head in ignorance when Haeyoung mouthed something.

None of them were professional players and Chanyeol was pretty sure that Myungsoo sunbae couldn’t possibly be chosen in a basketball team because he needed a few extra centimeters. However Chanyeol was a sore loser and nothing pricked his ego like _not winning_ something, even if it was a friendly match in the school courtyard.

Myungsoo’s friend — Youngbae or something, threw the ball in the air and Sehun was the one to get it. He dribbled for a couple seconds, then passed it to Haeyoung hyung and Chanyeol darted forward to an unguarded spot to allow them to pass it to him.

He groaned in frustration when the ball was intercepted by the very tall guy in Myungsoo’s team. Chanyeol moved as swiftly as his being lanky and tall allowed to tackle him to try and snatch the ball away, but that failed when the guy shoved the ball into Youngbae’s hands. Youngbae scored before Chanyeol’s team could even realize what was happening.

“Are you letting us win or..?,” Myungsoo asked with an amused grin that only made Chanyeol angrier than ever.

He dodged Youngbae staying pressed against him when the ball bounced on the floor and Sehun was fast enough to pick it up, then met Sehun’s eyes. Sehun threw the ball over Youngbae’s head and Chanyeol jumped back a little to receive it.

He smirked looking at Myungsoo when he dunked it in.

“Nah, just taking it easy,” Chanyeol replied nonchalantly. It was a blatant lie and Sehun must’ve caught it, because he eyed Chanyeol suspiciously and raised an eyebrow. He didn’t dare arguing though.

Chanyeol _was_ distracted and he was definitely playing just because he didn’t want to lose, but Myungsoo and friends didn’t need to know that and neither did Haeyoung hyung. They were on a tie and needed that one last perfect dunk to call it a day.

It was only a few seconds after and the ball was being thrown back and forth again. It must’ve been because it was the last score they needed to win, but for some reason Myungsoo and his team were playing harder than Chanyeol had thought. They almost threw the ball through the basket and they would have, if Sehun hadn’t been fast enough to deviate the trajectory of the ball and pass it to Haeyoung again.

“Yeol!” Sehun called, and Chanyeol darted unexpectedly to the opposite side of the court. Tall friend intercepted him just in time and was already on him by the time Sehun had passed the ball over and Chanyeol had gotten it safely against his chest.

He made it bounce from one hand to the other, Tall Friend unsuccessfully trying to snatch it. Chanyeol felt this guy’s weight on his back as he tried to get the ball since he was panting on his neck. It was disgusting. Chanyeol quickly looked around searching for Haeyoung and threw the ball over to him.

Haeyoung ran forward, he jumped, dunked and the match was over.

Myungsoo sunbae howled in desperation and Tall Friend finally took a step back from Chanyeol and awkwardly murmured a _thanks for the game_. It was late afternoon by the time they’d finished and students had just started to swarm out of the classrooms as the last afternoon classes had ended.

Chanyeol slowly walked towards one of the benches while Myungsoo sunbae and Haeyoung hyung chatted with the other guys, closer to the basketboard. Sehun followed him quickly, then dropped on the bench tiredly. He looked spent — his hair sticking to his forehead and his black t-shirt with the name of an american band on it sticking to his torso.

“You smell like shit,” he shared as Chanyeol tried to dry his reddened face off with a towel he’d fished out of his backpack. Chanyeol frowned, then proceeded to stick his nose in the front of his zip up jumper, just to check. Sehun chuckled when Chanyeol grimaced — _he did smell a lot_.

“It’s not like you smell like flowers, bastard,” he spit back and though he’d just insulted him, Sehun didn’t seem to be too bothered. He closed his eyes and tilted his head back as his chest heaved. “Tired?”

Sehun hummed and he stretched his arms on the back of the bench while Chanyeol sat next to him to drink. He only distractedly overheard Myungsoo talk about some future match, he didn’t really care. Chanyeol only played basketball because he was tall and it was a good way to take the edge off — and that day even basketball hadn’t helped. Chanyeol’s thoughts wandered wild; he kept thinking about the band and Jiho leaving on that last performance in winter, and then _Byun Baekhyun_ dozing off on that staircase hugging his guitar.

In his thoughts he didn’t fall asleep and he didn’t burn Baekhyun’s wrist. Time stretched incredibly or stopped altogether, and Chanyeol just looked at him — his guitar wasn’t as interesting in his thoughts.

Chanyeol brushed back Sehun’s fringe with one hand, then took a long sip of water and only turned around when he noticed one of Sehun’s eyes had cracked open to look at him. “What?,” he asked.

“Nothing. I could pretend I don’t know that something is wrong with you, because someone has probably asked you already. But I’m a good friend and we almost lost a match against Myungsoo sunbae today.” Sehun paused, his face as expressionless as it could be. “Myungsoo sunbae is shorter than you and very slow. You never lose to him. So yeah, I could ignore all of that, but I’m gonna ask. Do you need money? Is there something you’re not telling us?”

Chanyeol hesitated and hoped Sehun didn’t notice. He took another sip of water to make some more time, then looked towards their seniors still talking — their conversation had changed to school related topics.

Sehun must’ve known something Chanyeol wasn’t aware of, or maybe he was just a good observer. “Byun Baekhyun hyung was giving out flyers near the side gate earlier, did you see him after class?”

Sehun’s voice was controlled and he was eyeing Chanyeol attentively whereas Chanyeol just hoped he wasn’t so open in this reactions. “Oh. He was there? When?,” and he did sound a little too enthusiastic for his standards. _Idiot, what’s wrong with you_.

Sehun shrugged. “Earlier. He said he would be there for a while. I don’t envy him. It’s not that cold but it is if you’re standing for hours giving out pieces of paper.”

Chanyeol huffed tiredly, then crouched forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “I still don’t understand why he does it.”

Sehun shrugged in response, his nose up to the sky. “He must really like philosophy or something. Everyone knew him last time, you saw it too.”

It was true. Everyone knew Byun Baekhyun, even outside of the Political Science department. Someone from the Chemistry Department had stared at Chanyeol like he’d been living under a rock for the last ten years when he’d talked about Byun Baekhyun and explained how he had just recently learned about his existence. Byun Baekhyun seemed to be generally popular, not only in K. university but also outside of it — which also explained Chanyeol’s sense of familiarity when he’d first seen him.

Byun Baekhyun liked politics and he seemed to be engaged in various groups of discussions both in and out of school. People liked him, knew him and encouraged his beliefs. The more Chanyeol thought about it the more the contrast between the two of them was striking. The more it was obvious that Baekhyun had a very specific place in the world, a place he’d probably been building up for years, and that place had very little to do with Chanyeol’s world.

“It drives me crazy,” Chanyeol muttered standing up and carding his hand through his own hair frustratedly.

“What?”

“Him. He does.” Chanyeol blurted out, standing a few steps from Sehun with his brow furrowed in confusion. “I just don’t understand what he’s doing or what he wants from us.”

Chanyeol slung his bag on his back and pulled his hoodie low on his face — his hair still sort of wet from sweat and humidity. Sehun looked at him through hooded eyes, he blew his cheeks out until he looked like a fish, then puffed the air out.

“I don’t know man, have you asked him? Also…” Sehun started, then stretched on the bench like he had no reason at all to stand up and follow Chanyeol. “...what’s so wrong with him wanting to learn how to play? I don’t understand what irks you so much. At some point in your life you wanted to play, so you did. It’s probably the same with ByunBaek hyung.”

Chanyeol considered that possibility, then bit the inside of his cheek until he realized he didn’t have an answer ready for Sehun. He hesitated, then nodded and palmed the pocket of his jacket to fish his tobacco pouch out. “Whatever, I just...Someone that’s so into something doesn’t suddenly wake up and knows they want to play.”

“You did. One day you were into Mazinga and one day you wanted to play. Jiho told me. You’re not that different from him.”

That stung more than Chanyeol had thought, because for once Sehun was right. He flicked his shoulders, then walked closer to Sehun and handed him the pouch. He didn’t have to say anything, Sehun just unzipped it and drew out some tobacco and a small almost transparent foil.

“You should stop being such an asshole to him and just let him join us. He’s working really hard to impress us, you know? Well, more like he’s trying to impress _you_. Kyungsoo and I already like him enough.” Sehun swiftly rolled the tobacco in the small foil, then licked the edges of it to make sure the cigarette was rolled up tight and offered it back to Chanyeol nonchalantly; Chanyeol took it.

“Whatever,” he muttered and turned on his heels. “Not coming? I’m gonna go get something warm to drink, then go home.”

“Nah, I’m staying a bit longer. My bladder is killing me, I need the bathroom but I’m trying to convince myself I don’t really need it. Say goodbye to the hyungs, before you leave,” Sehun prompted, looking towards Myungsoo and Haeyoung.

Chanyeol yelled their names out loud, then bowed and gestured somewhere behind him after pocketing his tobacco pouch distractedly. They bowed back, then waved their hands. “I’m going, alright?”

Sehun nodded again, sniffling. “The side gate, understood?”

Chanyeol groaned as he turned around. “Shut up Oh Sehun.”

“Stop being such an asshole, hyung,” Sehun said, his voice a little louder. Chanyeol raised his hand with his middle finger in display for Sehun to see, then lit his cigarette and walked away from the basketball court slowly.

.

 

The campus looked a little eerie at sunset, with all the shadows elongating and blurring out the edges of the otherwise crisp shapes of the buildings. The side gate was almost deserted, as it was supposed to be at sunset after classes had finished. It was usually very crowded at peak hours, with ahjummas giving out flyers for restaurants and a few students advertising the activities of their departments down the hillock leading towards the actual gate.

Chanyeol heard Baekhyun laugh before he could even see him and something made his stomach churn and his step hurry. He was standing on the left side of the gate with a whole box full of flyers and a bunch close to his chest. He cordially smiled as he offered a flyer to a student as he passed by. His smile faltered a little when the guy just crumpled the pamphlet and threw it in one of the boxes on the other side of the alley. He sighed as he turned to look to the only other guy standing there with him. He looked older — and wasn’t holding the pamphlet — he must’ve been there for moral support.

Baekhyun looked exactly like Chanyeol had seen him a few weeks earlier. Just his hair was a little more ruffled and his glasses had slid down his nose. He was wearing a zip up hoodie rather than his usual coat, a pair of jeans and the usual scarf was missing.

Chanyeol debated for a few seconds whether he shouldn’t have avoided Sehun’s stupid suggestion to go and see Baekhyun. However Baekhyun met his eyes and his weak smile turned into something softer as his eyes lit up with familiarity — Chanyeol realized he’d wanted to see him after all.

“So you’re really here freezing your ass off, huh?,” Chanyeol murmured closing the distance between them. “Hello,” he greeted and bowed politely as the guy standing next to Baekhyun did the same.

Baekhyun snorted, then handed Chanyeol one of the flyers.

“You do what you have to do,” he replied smugly. “Goin’ home?”

Chanyeol carefully scanned the flyer, humming distractedly. “Yeah, sort of. I took a detour because Sehun told me someone was out here giving out flyers, so I decided to drop by to verify it myself.”

Chanyeol’s eyes briefly left the leaflet, stopping on Baekhyun for an instant and went back to the piece of paper. The line “Say No to Nuclear Weapons” on top of the paper was what stood out the most along with the renowned picture of the explosion in Hiroshima in the background — it hinted to an issue that was very different to what Baekhyun had pointed out in his speech at the seminar.

While bringing democracy in the country had been the goal for student movements twenty years earlier, Chanyeol knew for a fact that the trend had started to die down, despite the large numbers of students still taking part in the protests. Students in 1993, according to what Chanyeol could see every day at school, were more worried about global issues, problems regarding privilege in university and so on. It reflected perfectly the words of the leaflets Baekhyun was giving out now. The student committees weren’t talking about massacres and putting ex-presidents behind bars.

Baekhyun’s chuckle drew Chanyeol’s attention to him once again. He didn’t say anything, he just relaxed his features and shifted his weight from one leg to the other. _He must be cold_ Chanyeol thought but decided not to comment.

The guy next to Baekhyun turned around to tidy something up in the box of flyers on the ground, next to the wall of the gate and Baekhyun read that as his cue to come closer to Chanyeol with a tired sigh. It felt really natural for Chanyeol to reach out with one arm to take the bunch of leaflets Baekhyun was holding so that he could stretch.

“I’ve been standing here for the last three hours. You’re right I don’t think I feel my ass anymore,” he groaned in frustration as he twisted his hips, bent his back a little both forward and backwards and finally crossed his arms — one hand massaged his neck distractedly. “I thought I was gonna die, thank God you came.”

Chanyeol adjusted the weight of the leaflets on one arm only and reached with his free hand to zip Baekhyun’s hoodie all the way up — Baekhyun let him, halting for a moment and then fixing the zipper himself. “Who’s that?,” Chanyeol asked, hinting at the other guy who was now crouching in front of the same cardboard box, trying to make some sense out of the mess of leaflets and plastic wraps in it.

Baekhyun stopped his impromptu stretching exercise to throw a glance towards him. “Ah. He’s Kim Jinhwan, he’s a freshman from my department.” Jinhwan glanced up when he heard his name being called, then quickly composed himself and bowed to Chanyeol properly.

“I’m Kim Jinhwan, I’m majoring in Political Science. Nice to meet you, sunbaenim.”

Contrasting to his first hesitant bow, his introduction was very formal and on point — no one was immune to a freshman calling them _sunbae_ not even Chanyeol. He smiled back and even bowed one more time.

“Park Chanyeol, Chemistry Department. How is ByunBaek treating you?” He turned around to peek at Baekhyun, then pretended to lower his voice. “I bet he forced you to follow him. He does that all the time, the bastard.”

Baekhyun just laughed at Jinhwan’s flailing arms. “Actually I offered to help. Byun Sunbae has helped me a lot during the orientation and other sunbaes have told me to ask him in case he needed something, so…”

Chanyeol patted Baekhyun’s back lightly. “Look at you, making yourself an army of freshmen, ByunBaek.”

Baekhyun recoiled from Chanyeol’s hand but didn’t scoot away. “What makes you think you’re not part of that army yourself, huh?”

Jinhwan didn’t know what to answer to that, he stood there with his mouth agape for a second, then scurried after another student to give him a flyer. Chanyeol followed him with his eyes distractedly, then ended up on Baekhyun next to him.

“What’s with these?” He asked, clearly referring to the pieces of paper he was still holding, folded on his forearm. “I thought you wanted to imprison ex presidents, what’s about nuclear weapons now? Do you not want to get arrested anymore?”

Baekhyun flicked his shoulders, eyeing Chanyeol from behind the golden frame of his glasses with a soft, vaguely nostalgic smile. _There it was again_ , the smile. Chanyeol noticed it immediately, how the whole air to Baekhyun changed completely.

“The new Student Committee wanted to discuss more...concrete stuff, they said. As if what I talked about wasn’t...concrete,” the nostalgia diluted into bitterness and when Baekhyun met Chanyeol’s eyes once again Chanyeol knew there was something more to that speech than Baekhyun was letting up.

“It was just more difficult, ByunBaek, that’s what it was.”

Baekhyun’s lips curled up in a non convinced grin and he turned around — his shoulders were just a little stiff or maybe Chanyeol was imagining things.

“I don’t want to get arrested, by the way. It’s just...I feel responsible,” Baekhyun murmured. His voice sounded heavy, thick with something Chanyeol couldn’t quite place. His words didn’t make much sense either. The talks of democracy and the heat of the student movements was over; the current president had promised he would take measures against those who had betrayed the citizens of the country. Change was coming, everyone could feel it. _Baekhyun felt responsible_ , and Chanyeol couldn’t help but feel admiration towards him and be confused at the same time.

“What do you feel responsible for? Baekhyun we were eight.”

Baekhyun stared for a few seconds, then his lips curled up when Jinhwan walked up to the both of them. “Sunbae,” he called, pointing at something, and Baekhyun followed him to the cardboard box. Chanyeol stayed behind, watchful. He didn’t miss the way Baekhyun looked a lot more tense than he’d been a few minutes earlier. He hated to be responsible for it and at the same time it frustrated him _not to know_

That _place in the world_ which Chanyeol thought Baekhyun had perfectly found in his department and in these very politically active people who supported him, maybe wasn’t as perfect as Chanyeol had believed it was.

“I think we can wrap it up for today. What do you think, Jinhwan?”

Kim Jinhwan agreed and he politely gestured to Chanyeol to drop the flyers he was holding into the cardboard box. Chanyeol did, in silence, then waited until the other two were done and the box was closed and sealed. He almost expected Baekhyun to ask him to help them carry the box all the way to the Science Department, but Baekhyun must’ve learned the ways of a sunbae early in his first year.

“Jinhwan-ah, would you mind carrying the box back? Sunbae has someone to meet outside of school and he’s late.” Chanyeol almost rolled his eyes in incredulity when Baekhyun talked in third person referring to himself and he only controlled himself because somewhere, deep inside, he thought it was somewhat attractive.

“No, I don’t mind. Is Park Sunbae-nim going too?”

“Ah- well I-” Chanyeol stammered as Baekhyun came to stand next to him.

“Yes, since he’s here he might as well come too, will you?” Chanyeol just nodded. “So we’ll get going, alright? I’m really sorry to make you do this Jinhwan-ah, really, but, you know...” Baekhyun dropped the sentence like that, as if there was this big emergency.

It was a side of Baekhyun’s personality that Chanyeol had never seen before, it surprised him. He could be a little selfish and a little.. _shitty_ if he wanted, apparently. Chanyeol found himself internally grinning and couldn’t stop himself from thinking that in that instance he’d thought Baekhyun charming, in his being mean to his hoobae.

Jinhwan shook his head, something akin to embarrassment showing on his features. “It’s nothing, sunbae. You can go first, I can finish this by myself.”

Jinhwan knew he was being brutally taken advantage of, but something about his upbringing and the general unspoken rule of _respecting the elders_ prevented him from complaining or from taking himself out of the situation. Baekhyun knew he wouldn’t have complained and _that_ was what made him the biggest piece of shit.

He must have known that too because his eyes glinted a little when he met Chanyeol’s gaze and patted him on the shoulder to tell him to go. Chanyeol threw one last glance to Jinhwan trying to juggle between the box and his school bag, before just following Baekhyun out of the gate.

“That was _very_ low, you know?” He started, to which Baekhyun just chortled back, amused.

“Others always do that with me, what makes you think I can’t do that too? Mh? Plus I decided to help freshmen in the orientation so that I could have that kind of influence on them.”

“You _really_ are trying to make yourself an army of freshmen, I can’t believe it,” Chanyeol repeated with a fake expression of shock on his face. “And to think people see you as the cute second year with scary ideas…”

Baekhyun pushed him with enough force to make Chanyeol waver a little, Chanyeol let him for once. Maybe Sehun was right and he’d just been a stubborn asshole from the start. Baekhyun just wanted to play, _what was so wrong with that?_

“Shut up Parkchan,” Baekhyun said, briefly dropping to informal speech. Chanyeol snorted in response, sticking his hands in the pocket of his jacket while Baekhyun distractedly cleaned the lenses of his glasses with the hem of his hoodie.

The street wasn’t as dark as when Chanyeol had walked Baekhyun back to his hasuk-jib, the lady selling _tteok_ near the subway station was still there, along with the  _pojangmacha_ selling  _ingoppang_  at the corner.

“Walk with me to my place, I’ll give you coffee,” Baekhyun prompted and he wore his glasses again. There were still fingerprints on the edges, Chanyeol noticed, but they didn’t seem to disturb Baekhyun too much. He resisted the urge to reach out and clean the glasses himself, then furrowed his brows in confusion. He wouldn’t have hesitated, had it been Sehun or Kyungsoo or even Jiho. So why was he questioning it now?

He hummed in agreement.

They turned right at the supermarket after the traffic light, then walked into a shady alleyway they hadn’t ventured in last time. This street cut through the canal and to reach it they walked past a deserted hairdresser, a cafe where a couple of old ladies were sitting outside on an impromptu porch, chatting; a few other restaurants and a dry cleaning shop. Chanyeol much preferred this contorted maze of alleyways to the big road running straight from K. University to Jaegi-dong. They had some charm to them, and Baekhyun looked so strikingly out of place there that it made Chanyeol wonder where he came from, exactly.

Baekhyun jutted his head back and met Chanyeol’s gaze with a carefree grin. “You know, originally it was Kim Jinhwan and someone else that should’ve given out the flyers. I helped with the orientation, delivered my speech last time and photocopied all of the professor’s papers this week. But one of the kids lives two hours from here, so I felt bad.”

“It still didn’t stop you from having your hoobae do work for you. The cruel sunbae role suits you, somehow,” Chanyeol commented. “No telling me stories about pitiful hoobaes is gonna make me change my mind, Byun Baekhyun.”

“I do agree that it suits me a little.”

Chanyeol huffed from his nose, and for once he didn’t feel that string snapping inside him, screaming to get away from Baekhyun. “I bet it does,” Chanyeol said.

They walked in silence for a while. Climbed up the stairs going up the bridge that connected the two sides of the district. Baekhyun stopped at some point, to stare at the darkness under the bridge. Chanyeol called him once, and they went back on their path. It was a quiet road except for a few cars and someone passing by with a bicycle.

“I have been going to the music club as you suggested.” Baekhyun looked forward as he talked, though he must’ve felt Chanyeol’s eyes darting towards him. “I’ve been practicing and we’ve learned a few things. I’m still...very bad at it though. I’m not confident enough to show it to you and the others yet.”

Chanyeol didn’t know what that pressure squeezing his chest was, but he felt it as Baekhyun spoke. Baekhyun who had been so adamant about _not wanting_ to go to the club. In the end he’d given up — he’d listened to Chanyeol, and that was a good thing. He could learn properly and maybe Chanyeol could finally be freed of the burden of teaching him or taking him to rehearsals — though convincing Baekhyun for that might take a little more effort.

“Good. It’s good that you’re learning the basics,” Chanyeol murmured back. “I know a couple of people in that club. Three of them play at the same venue where we’ve played with The Housewives a few times. They’re way better at teaching than I’ll ever be, trust me.”

Baekhyun stopped again for a moment and looked up at Chanyeol with a teasing, amused smile. “I trust you. You don’t look like the best teacher.” A pause, he resumed walking.

“What?”

“You have no patience and get angry easily. Don’t pretend you don’t glare at me half of the time. I see you ParkChan.” Baekhyun’s lips curved in a smile and he knuckled his glasses up the bridge of his nose, innocently — almost cheeky, childish. As if he hadn’t spent the last weeks harassing Chanyeol to have free classes, as if Chanyeol hadn’t lost his mind because of that.

As if he’d just given all the answers with that smile.

“Then why me? Why did you want me to teach you?” Chanyeol snapped, and for once that anger, that restlessness he’d kept bottled up all came out at once. “Since you’re here also tell me, _why_ do you want to play, again? You never explained that either. I don’t know, Byun, you just… You have your things, your speeches and a bunch of people who admire you. They like you. You...why? Why now? Why me? Why that guitar?”

Baekhyun stayed silent and stared at the ground, while Chanyeol noticed the sign for his hasuk-jib in the distance. They were close, but he _wanted_ his answers. He was tired of finding reasons to be stubborn, to keep pushing Baekhyun outside of his world, of the world of the band.

“You…” Baekhyun started. He didn’t look up, no matter how insistently Chanyeol looked at him. He was playing with the ends of his sleeves, then he raised one hand and bit on the knuckle of his index finger, as if he was thinking about something. “It’s not that deep, really. You were looking at that guitar like nobody had for a long time and I thought maybe you were the right guy.” He stopped to fix his gaze on Chanyeol, straightforward, challenging. “I just wanted it to be you, I don’t know how to explain it.”

The hasuk-jib was close now — the usual guy at the bottom of the stairs was smoking and he even nodded at Baekhyun in the distance. “In the end I had to compromise, though. But that’s ok as well. It allowed me to meet Jinyoung sunbae again, that was good.”

Chanyeol raised an eyebrow and whatever he was planning to ask again, he forgot when Baekhyun called Jung Jinyoung’s name — the same guy who had helped Chanyeol arrange more than half of the songs that The Housewives had covered when they’d just started playing; someone who was deeply linked to the music world. “You know Jinyoung sunbae?”

Baekhyun tilted his head to the side, then nodded and stopped, a few steps away from the entrance of the hasuk-jib. The guy who was smoking outside nodded one more time and left, climbing up the stairs to his room, and that seemed to stop Baekhyun from answering until he was gone, his mouth slightly parted. They were left under the flickering light of the _garden hasuk_ sign, and it had a weird horror movie effect as it reflected on Baekhyun’s features.

“He was a friend of someone I used to know, so I got to meet him as well” he shared simply. “I got to meet quite a few people thanks to this person, not only in the music field. It was a fun adolescence, I guess.” Baekhyun brushed it off, but Chanyeol was slowly learning to understand the signs behind Baekhyun’s silences and apparently simple explanations: there was always something more he wasn’t saying or he was implying. Maybe that was why Chanyeol found him so interesting. He hummed in understanding, just because he didn’t know what to answer to that.

“Let me take your coffee, I’ll be right back,” Baekhyun said all of a sudden and he was gone.

Chanyeol waited, following Baekhyun’s scrambling up the stairs and into his room. The light went on, then off again and there was, again, a lot of noise from inside. Baekhyun reappeared a few seconds after with a can of cold coffee that froze Chanyeol’s fingertips and the palm of his hands as soon as he touched it.

“I thought you meant warm coffee, to be honest.”

Baekhyun opened his mouth, probably to apologize, then furrowed his brow. “Don’t complain, Park Chanyeol - sshi.”

Chanyeol shook his head in fake exasperation and Baekhyun chuckled as he walked up the first step of the stairs. They both said goodbye, Chanyeol even moved a few step back before turning towards the entrance again.

“Byunbaek?”

“Yeah?”

Baekhyun stopped halfway up, he turned his head only.

“Why do you want to play? You didn’t reply.”

“I’ll tell you next time.”

Chanyeol stared at the flight of stairs for a few moments, until the light on the second floor lit up and he knew Baekhyun was inside. He felt almost too private to see his shadow walk past the darkened window, intimate. Chanyeol looked away, then started walking.


	4. Track 03

**Track 03**

 

“I don’t know, he didn’t tell me the reason,” Kyungsoo shrugged it off from behind his drum kit. He took a deep drag from his cigarette, then flicked the ash in an empty bottle of soju with a bit of water at the bottom.

“So we… don’t have a gig for this weekend.”

“Yeah, basically.”

Chanyeol exhaled from the other side of the room, half bent on the stool where he was sitting. He patted open handed the side of the classic guitar he was holding instead of his usual Strat, his lips curled in a grimace. “Unless Jongdeok can sneak us in between two groups, we’re staying home this weekend,” Chanyeol murmured more to himself than Kyungsoo, however the drummer nodded in agreement.

“We can try. It’s more realistic than trying to find another venue in three days. One that casually happens to be in need of a rock band.”

“Shit,” Chanyeol muttered. He distractedly looked at the spirals of smoke coming from Kyungsoo’s, cigarette, as they went up towards the ceiling — the only small window in the upper corner of the wall was closed. “And to think Jiho was telling me we should do this for a job...this is...what? The third time they cancel on us?”

“Fourth, actually. You’re forgetting the only time Jongdeok cancelled too.”

“They didn’t even open PD, his granddad was dead or something.” Kyungsoo stared, as if it didn’t change much, then took another drag from his cigarette.

Chanyeol stood up with yet another sigh, walked towards the window and had to stand on his tiptoes to open it. The cool breeze coming from outside could literally only be felt if one were to stay face _into_ the window, but Chanyeol really disliked his mom yelling for hours about his clothes smelling of smoke. “You always forget to open the damn window, is it so difficult?”

“It’s not that I forget, I can’t reach it and you barely do, so…” He dropped the sentence and Chanyeol snorted as he sat down on the stool again, then positioned the guitar on his legs.

“Do Kyungsoo admitting he’s short.”

“I am, for that window. And you are too.” He paused, leaning to rest his back on the wall behind him. “We can try and ask Jongdeok but...To be completely honest? Yeol you _know_ we don’t work as well as we did without Jiho. And don’t even start with that shit about Nirvana working just fine as three. Ah-ah no. Don’t.”

Chanyeol shut his mouth and furrowed his brow before he could say the _shit about Nirvana doing just fine as three_. “What are you trying to say, exactly?,” he asked.

“What I’m trying to say is that we should decide what we want to do exactly, maybe reinvent our setlist or even write some new pieces, I have no idea. But we can’t keep improvising on stuff that is originally for four people with a group of three. We need a guitar and you don’t want to give me one because you’re still upset that Jiho left.”

Chanyeol opened his mouth to say something but closed it again, biting the inside of his cheek. He’d known for a while Sehun and him were struggling, trying to improvise in the rehearsals and adapt songs and covers where the part had been equally split with Jiho. Without him, Chanyeol hadn’t even properly tried to fix the new covers.

Maybe he thought Jiho would come back, after all.

“Baekhyun can’t play properly, I can’t exactly let him join the band if he can’t play. I know it’s him you’re talking about. The kid is learning, I can’t.” He scrambled to spit out the first thing that came to his mind, then bit his cheek again.

“I never talked about Byun Baekhyun, Yeol. Take your mind off the kid for a moment, I’m talking about the fact that I want a second guitar and either you deal with the fact that Jiho has left, or they’ll keep canceling on us because we suck. And you know we do, right now.” Kyungsoo paused, then reached for another cigarette and offered one to Chanyeol.

Chanyeol was ready to complain at Kyungsoo’s bite about Baekhyun, but he let it set on the pile of things that irritated him and just stood up slowly, dejectedly, walked up to him and bent on the drum kit. He took the cigarette and let Kyungsoo light it. “I know, I know,” he murmured around it. He inhaled the smoke, slowly. “I’ll give you a second guitar, we can do the same thing we did for Sehun and find someone, I don’t know.”

“That’ll do.”

Kyungsoo remained silent for a while and Chanyeol was back on his stool with his guitar. He even picked the strings, improvising something that made no sense and had no rhythm or shape. He thought of Jiho leaving after their gig in winter, and how they’d talked about the world of music. It all seemed like it had happened years and years ago. He abruptly slammed his palm on the strings so that the sound would end altogether, when Kyungsoo said “You know…” and Chanyeol listened.

“I haven’t seen you as hyped for something since last time Byun Baekhyun was here. Sehun was right, in a sense and wrong in another, I think.”

Chanyeol didn’t know what to say, but he averted his own gaze from Kyungsoo because he was scared for a moment — scared of what Kyungsoo would read into his expression that Chanyeol didn’t know he was letting out. “What do you mean…?,” he questioned hesitantly.

“Sehun said it finally looked like you were interested in something that wasn’t music. I think...you finally looked _so into the music_ that it was nice to see. For once you didn’t look like you were forced to play. After Jiho left, I mean.”

Chanyeol frowned and distractedly picked the strings, just to keep his hands busy.

“If he makes you want to play that much, then I want him here.” Kyungsoo dragged some smoke from his cigarette then spit it out, looking sideways. “Nothing to say?”

Chanyeol shook his head. He did have something to say, about Baekhyun being so stubborn about wanting to play and so secretive about his reasons, making Chanyeol lose his mind. About how absurd it was, how it made no sense that he would want to play at all and yet there he was, grabbing Chanyeol’s sleeve. He wanted to talk about how good it had felt after rehearsing that one time — it was one of their regular songs and it had felt _alive_ , pulsing into Chanyeol’s veins because he had _wanted_ to impress and there was someone who had expectations Chanyeol had to live up to.

He bottled all of this up, closed his eyes and mentally called himself an idiot for letting himself be so overwhelmed.

Kyungsoo stood up and circled the drum kit only after dropping the butt of his cigarette in the empty soju bottle. “I think he’s a good influence, whatever you’re gonna make out of it,” he insisted.

It was a little out of character for Kyungsoo, who usually let his drum speak a lot more than he did with his voice, to talk this much. It was comforting on one hand and it made Chanyeol chuckle low, on the other. “You’re creeping me out with the heart to heart talk, you know?”

“It’s because you’re here looking like a kicked puppy since I said all the mean things.” Kyungsoo stopped in front of him, crossing his arms. “And I’m sorry for the Jiho thing, but someone had to tell you. Sehun loves you too much to be an asshole to you.”

Chanyeol snorted. “He’s very much an asshole when he wants to be. Loves me my ass. He would sell every organ I have if he could.”

“Maybe. For a signed Metallica cassette. But I mean, blame him for that.”

Chanyeol didn’t. “I would probably sell both of you for a signed cassette. And I wouldn’t regret it.”

They both laughed and Chanyeol felt a little lighter and a little giddier than he’d been a few minutes before. There was a gust of wind from the opened window when Kyungsoo opened the door to the basement and kicked the brick they used as weight to keep the door opened until it was stuck in its usual position.

“I made the whole room stink, let’s change the air a bit,” he offered. “I’ll be upstairs, Oh Sehun should be coming.”

Chanyeol hummed as he heard Kyungsoo noisily climbing up the stairs. He breathed out slowly and let his brain freeze a little on the thought of having to audition someone for a second guitar. He caught himself before he could wish Baekhyun could play, because he would do just fine — he strummed the strings of his guitar, frustrated.

Kyungsoo’s five minutes became ten, then fifteen. Chanyeol didn’t really realize, busy playing and humming tunes by himself. His Stratocaster was left on the guitar stand, next to the mic to the left of Kyungsoo’s drum kit and normally Chanyeol would’ve felt a little guilty for neglecting his baby, but not that day.

He let himself think of absolutely nothing, his brain a blank page when he strummed the first G chord — he found his own rhythm, until all he focused on was the progression of the chords, the strings under the pick. He breathed in and when he let his voice out, he sang for no one.

 _Been thinking about you, your records are here_   
_Your eyes are on my wall, your teeth are over there_   
_But I'm still no-one, and you're now a star_ _  
_ What do you care?

His voice went smoothly through the second verse and Chanyeol closed his eyes as he changed the position of his fingers on the tab dragging them and taking pleasure from the screeching sound his skin made when in contact with the strings. He felt his throat crack, dry, when it was time for the higher note of the refrain. _All the things you got, All the things you need_ he frowned, not exactly convinced. He stopped playing, tried it one more time strumming the chord.

_All the things you got,_

_All the things you need_

_Who bought you cigarettes,_

_Who bribed the company to come and see you, honey_

His voice cracked again and Chanyeol sighed, dropping his hands on his knees.

When he looked up, a few seconds after, he swallowed dryly; Baekhyun’s silhouette filled his frame of vision: he was leaning with his shoulder on the door frame, guitar on his back. He wasn't wearing glasses that day, they were hanging -folded- on the collar of his t-shirt. Chanyeol felt his neck grow warm. It the same sensation as if he'd just been caught red handed doing something he shouldn’t be doing.

“Hey,” he said. His lips curved upward in a soft grin.

“Hey,” Chanyeol said back and he slowly lowered the classic guitar to the floor with a sigh. “How long...” He tripped on his words. “...how long have you… you know, watched?”

Baekhyun pulled himself away from the door frame with a shrug. He carded his hand through his hair, then slid his guitar off his shoulders. Maybe Chanyeol was imagining things, but Baekhyun looked bolder without his glasses. His movements looked sharper and his smile looked more like a grin. _What the hell?_ Chanyeol avoided Baekhyun’s eyes and stood up, only to stop in the middle of the room, suddenly realizing he didn't know what to do exactly.

“Long enough,” Baekhyun replied only after lowering his guitar case to the floor and unzipping it — the cherry red of the Gibson flashed in the corner of Chanyeol’s eyes. He watched, as Baekhyun let the fabric guitar case slid to floor and slung the guitar on. “What song was that?”

“It’s called Thinking about you,” Chanyeol muttered, walking toward the open door to the flight of stairs leading outside. He looked up, searching for Kyungsoo’s back profile but no one was there.

He gasped when he felt a hand on his shoulder and turned around to see Baekhyun behind him. “Who sings it?” pause, Baekhyun used Chanyeol as leverage to look outside the door himself. Of course he saw nothing, he looked up to Chanyeol. “What happens?” he asked.

Chanyeol shook his head, then he backed away from Baekhyun’s hands with a frown. “Kyungsoo went upstairs to wait for Oh Sehun and he died there, apparently.” He backed a couple of steps more and proceeded to aimlessly look at the floor. “It was a Radiohead song, it's a new group. I got the cassette two weeks ago or so,” he explained.

He still felt a little stupid and a little exposed both for the song he'd just sang and the fact itself that he was singing, alone. Baekhyun had seen him play, he'd heard him sing last time too and he'd probably understood nothing of the lyrics Chanyeol was singing with a very obvious accent. That, however, didn't stop Chanyeol from feeling like he'd been standing there naked. And Baekhyun’s eyes when he'd looked up to see him there on the door, those eyes were seeing through him whole.

Baekhyun hummed in understanding. “Never heard of them but the melody wasn't bad.” He moved round the room like he belonged there, grazing the cymbals of Kyungsoo’s drum kit, then the mic in front of it with a certain light in his eyes. _He wants to be here_ it was that obvious.

Baekhyun hummed the melody to himself, distorting it a little. He laughed a ridiculous, staccato laugh and he turned around meeting Chanyeol’s eyes with a mischievous look. He brought his thumb to catch it between his teeth, pensive — Chanyeol had seen him do that in other occasions; he'd found himself thinking Baekhyun’s fingers were pretty. Today he was wearing bandaids on the tips of his fingers. Chanyeol knew what that meant. He remembered his sister helping him with those when he would get blisters or the skin would peel off. He'd put band aids on Jiho’s fingers too, it was _the_ ritual every guitar player had to go through.

“You've been practising,” Chanyeol noted and he sat on the stool with a huff.

“Mh?”

“Your fingers,” he gestured towards Baekhyun’s hands. “y’know, the bandaids. It’ll get better with time. The skin won’t be as soft as it was before, though.”

Baekhyun’s expression shifted from a confused one to a sunny smile. He moved up to Chanyeol and wiggled his fingers in front of his face playfully. Chanyeol snorted, and that was all Baekhyun seemed to be expecting: a brief guttural laugh. What he got instead was Chanyeol stopping his hand in place. His fingers closed around the side of the palm and he noticed Baekhyun had started to get blisters on there too. “How much are you practising exactly? I didn’t recall your hands being this bad a few days ago.”

“I practiced enough,” Baekhyun brushed off. Chanyeol let go of his hand — Baekhyun looked almost taken aback when he finally did. He laughed, low and breathy, as if ready to spill a secret. “They almost kicked me out of the hasukjib because I was playing too much, to be honest...I thought it wouldn’t be too loud but-”

“It’s a semi-hollow,” Chanyeol cut in, focusing on the guitar resting on Baekhyun’s lower torso. He reached out with his fingers  to follow the shape of the black S on the cherry red body, then he dragged his eyes upwards to meet with Baekhyun’s. “It’s not as loud as a classic guitar or a real acoustic one, but it’s definitely louder than a regular electric like mine. You need to know your baby before you can play it decently, ByunBaek-ah. Have you done some research about it?” Chanyeol poked the guitar with the intent of pushing Baekhyun teasingly and Baekhyun half curled on himself with a fake _ouch_ — he shook his head.

“And what are you waiting for, huh? I thought you wanted to play,” he scolded, sounding more serious than he’d intended to. Baekhyun raised an eyebrow at him, but his face didn’t look offended; no, it was rather amused. He didn’t say anything, just stared, with a face as if he’d just seen Chanyeol blushing.

Chanyeol cleared his throat and averted his gaze. “Don’t let yourself get kicked out, idiot.” It pained him to say it, it really did but Sehun and Kyungsoo were right and he had to stop being such an asshole. “And...I guess you could come and practise here. Or we could practise together,” he prompted, _why did he even say that?_

“Oh.”

“Mh?” Chanyeol looked up to a starstruck Baekhyun. “‘Oh?’ Is that all? I’m granting you the privilege of playing with the best guit-”

“Oh, cut it, best guitarist my ass. I just didn’t expect you to say that.” There it was again, the smug look, followed by a contrasting soft smile. “Thank you, and...uhm…” Baekhyun hesitated. He looked...Chanyeol couldn’t believe his eyes because he looked _embarrassed_ at first, and then his gaze turned into something more determined. “I wanted to show you what I’ve learned. I still suck, but I’m getting better.”

Chanyeol’s lips curved downward for a moment. Now _that_ was unexpected. “Go on,” he said, propping his elbow on his knee and crouching a little. “Are you going to show me with the guitar unplugged?”

“What? Ah-no.” He followed the amp cable sitting on the floor until he found the end of it and plugged it in. “Ok. Don’t laugh.”

Chanyeol wasn’t going to laugh. Or, not _only_ laugh at least. There was something fascinating to Baekhyun frowning at his fingers on the strings and balancing his weight left and right, left and right. He bit his lip, then he fumbled with his glasses to put them on and Chanyeol felt it again, the urge to leave that room as soon as possible because what he really wanted was to stare longer.

Baekhyun today was completely different from the boy Chanyeol had seen talk freely behind that lecture stand. This Baekhyun was _bare_ , in a sense. He was stepping outside his comfort zone with shyness and determination at the same time. Maybe that was the reason why Chanyeol couldn’t tear his gaze away, why he couldn’t _actually_ leave the room.

He breathed in, in anticipation when Baekhyun played the first note, pressing his fingers on the right strings. It took him less than a second to drift to the other note and Chanyeol was already grinning, because he recognized the song right away. The easiest, newbiest song for people who have just started to learn how to play the guitar, a classic.

Baekhyun started to half bounce on his knees, keeping it up with the easy transition between the three notes — a clear distortion on the third. He looked up and smiled, all proud, even though his palm kept grazing the high E string and Chanyeol could sort of hear it through the amp. It was a messy version of Smoke on the Water by Deep Purple, and Chanyeol even started humming at it — the sound reverberating in the basement.

“How is it?,” Baekhyun asked and something went wrong.

He gloriously missed one finger on the third tab and the sound came out completely different from what he wanted. He grimaced and Chanyeol couldn’t keep it in; he just laughed a loud, amused laugh smacking his hand on his thigh. Baekhyun glared at him at first, but he smiled coily.

“Meh,” he said.

“Wow, you really suck,” Chanyeol said and kept laughing by himself, more recalling Baekhyun terrified face when he’d felt his finger slip on the wrong string.

“Oh, fuck off, I’m outta here,” Baekhyun complained — that only made Chanyeol laugh harder and stand up to stop the other from leaving the room. Chanyeol clinged on his forearm and Baekhyun wiggled away from his grip, arms up in defense. “You are a piece of shit because I asked you not to laugh.”

“I didn’t...Ok I laughed but your fa-”

“Hyung, have you seen what Baekhyun hyung has learned? Huh? Isn’t it cool?” Oh Sehun entered the room followed by Kyungsoo, his bass on his back. “We met a couple of days ago and he showed it to me. We even played a little together.”

Chanyeol’s face went rigid in a very blank expression as something inside him pinged at the idea that he hadn’t been the first to hear Baekhyun try his very first song, but the enthusiasm in Sehun’s voice made up for that. He nodded. “I laughed. He was pretty shitty, actually.”

“Sure, he loved it,” Baekhyun clipped, giving his back to everyone as he rummaged inside the front pocket of his guitar case.

“Wow you really are _the_ dick if you laughed. He’s a newbie, people don’t laugh at newbies,” Kyungsoo noted, and he walked back to his spot behind the drum kit to eat his triangular kimbap.

“Yeah, tell him Kyungsoo,” Baekhyun hyped, smiling into his words.

“We didn’t laugh when you sneezed during that performance and kept singing with snot on your face. You’re welcome.”

Chanyeol opened his mouth, then bit on the inside of his cheek. “We couldn’t exactly stop in the middle of Knocking on Heaven’s Door…”

Sehun walked past him. He whispered, “Dick.” Chanyeol hit him on his nape and Sehun whined in pain, recoiling.

“And nobody complained about the sneeze? And the snot?,” Baekhyun questioned, flopping to sit cross legged on the floor while unwrapping a cinnamon candy.

“He was fast enough to avoid sneezing into the mic, so at least that was saved. The snot though...We believe people thought it was sweat or something. Park Chanyeol can get very disgusting when he performs.” Kyungsoo’s voice was low and steady as he explained. He brushed off a piece of dried seaweed from the corner of his mouth.

“Well, thank you. I’m flattered. Now that everyone has humiliated me, I told Byun Baekhyun he can practice here since he almost managed to get kicked out of his room or something. So, yeah.”

Baekhyun nodded in approval with the candy stuck to the side of his cheek.

“He finally stopped being a dick, I can’t believe it,” Sehun announced. “Hyung, you owe me ten,” he continued towards Kyungsoo.

“You guys bet on this? I can’t believe it. And then _I_ am the asshole,” Chanyeol complained, but then he grinned a little when he met Baekhyun’s eyes, and he was smiling too.

“Of course we bet on this, what do you think,” Sehun shrugged.

“We bet on a lot of stuff we don’t tell you about. Sehun-ah, I’ll buy you lunch tomorrow,” Kyungsoo crumpled the plastic wrapping of his kimbap and threw it on the pile of shame — the pile of trash, really — at the corner of the room.

 

.

 

They rehearsed a few songs, with Baekhyun staring at them from the stool where Chanyeol had been sitting earlier, bracing his guitar with this light in his eyes and his lips slightly parted. It wasn’t a particularly good rehearsal, Chanyeol’s voice wasn’t well and his throat kept wheezing when he tried to hit a higher note. They even tried Smoke on the Water so that Baekhyun would be able to play with them and that was the funniest part: Baekhyun laughed through most of it because Chanyeol erupted in a ridiculous falsetto when he had to sing the _when it all was over, we had to find another place_ and he couldn’t keep it in.

Chanyeol chortled too, and that caused Kyungsoo to stop playing to smile from behind the drum kit and Sehun just slide the guitar strap off his shoulders. “I’m gonna get you tea. Have you caught a cold?,” he asked as he carefully put his bass on the standee.

Chanyeol cleared his voice and instinctively went to touch his adam apple with a frown. “So it seems,” he said. “Sehun-ah, I’ll go get some by myself, it’s fine.”

Sehun flapped his hand away as he opened the door to the basement and climbed up the stairs two at a time. Chanyeol followed him with his eyes and sighed, turning around to meet Baekhyun’s eyes fixed on him.

“It’s nothing,” Chanyeol reassured and he slid the guitar strap off like Sehun had just done. He laid his axe on its case on the floor.

“He’s a nice kid,” Baekhyun said. He seemed to hesitate for a moment and forcing a grin back. Then he looked away, turned around. “I should feel sorry about you getting a cold but...that was funny.”

“Funny as fuck, I agree,” Kyungsoo added, then he sang the same part _When it all was over, we had to find another place…_ and he strained his voice just like Chanyeol had done. Chanyeol wasn’t sure how to feel about his friend teasing him, but he ended up relaxing and joining the generally relaxed atmosphere with a laugh.

“Your vocalist can’t sing and you’re here laughing. I swear Sehun is the only decent person I know.” Chanyeol jokingly complained, playing with the collar of his hoodie. His throat prickled when he swallowed and he grimaced in discomfort.

“Also, Baekhyun-ah,” Kyungsoo started as he stood up, leaving the drumsticks to lay on the snare. “What do you know about _Janet’s House_?”

Chanyeol focused on Kyungsoo with a confused look but the drummer completely ignored him, his attention to Baekhyun.

“The disk shop?”

“That one, I work there part time and there’s a vacancy, if you’re interested,” Kyungsoo explained, then took a cigarette out of the packet he always kept in his pocket and lit it without much thought. “It’s an easy job and it won’t keep you too busy but it pays well. What do you say?”

Baekhyun curled his lips into a thoughtful pout, scratching a little bump on the edge of his guitar with his fingertip.

“Aren’t you already busy with the club activities and all that stuff you do for your department?” Chanyeol questioned. He imagined there was a reason why so many people knew and admired Byun Baekhyun and it was probably because he was there for every single project and meeting, every march or seminar; he never refused to help and was very active in the University, especially in his department. A part time job in a completely different field would end up taking time from that and because of this, despite how little he knew of Baekhyun, Chanyeol was almost sure he would refuse the offer.

“I am…” Baekhyun replied, leaving the sentence hanging there. A smile softened his features immediately after. “...but I want to try. If it’s not too many hours a week it should be fine, Kyungsoo.”

Chanyeol got stuck on Baekhyun’s expression for a second, his breath catching into his throat in an uncomfortable lump Chanyeol couldn’t explain. Baekhyun’s answer too, surprised him. It didn’t make any sense for Baekhyun to want that; why would someone want to complicate their lives like that? Why did he want this world of poorly paid gigs and stinky backstages, when they didn’t match Baekhyun’s image at all?

Chanyeol stayed mum, trapping Baekhyun into his gaze like some sort of prey, as if that could help somehow understand him more, get some answers. He’d said he’d tell him, later. Chanyeol wondered what that _later_ meant, and if it was a story he wanted to hear.

“Are you sure?” Kyungsoo asked, blowing out a stream of smoke to the side. “It’s not many hours a day but it’s fine if you’re busy. I just told you because I thought you might need some sound effects for that guitar at some point. Or better strings, whatever.”

“Oh? I...hadn’t thought of that,” Baekhyun admitted.

“Isn’t it a bit early for him to buy stuff? He can’t even play properly yet,” Chanyeol tuned, brooding.

Kyungsoo shook his head in disagreement. “It’ll take time for him to make enough money for that stuff anyway. And-”

“I...want to listen to some music. I don’t own many cassettes and don’t know much about recent music but a job in a disk shop would help, even if I don’t buy the...sound things, whichever I might need.”

Chanyeol breathed in heavily. “So it’s decided? Are you in?” Kyungsoo asked with a little too enthusiasm for his persona. “You can come see the owner tomorrow at noon if you’re free. That’s when he usually shows up. He’s a writer, he has deadlines and shit so he’s almost never there.”

“Yeah...I guess I’m in.”

Baekhyun kept this hesitantly happy expression for the following seconds, and Chanyeol found himself wondering if he hadn’t just ruined the moment for him. _Asshole_ as usual.

Sehun walked in soon after with a click of the door, holding a bottle of yellow liquid he tossed towards Chanyeol carelessly. Chanyeol caught it and juggled it a little between his hands — his palms burning. “Careful, it’s hot.” Sehun warned belatedly. He looked at Kyungsoo first, then at Baekhyun. “So, have you asked him?”

“He said he’ll try,” Kyungsoo clarified, then offered his cigarette to Sehun and he took it without hesitation, breathing in, then blowing out the smoke with a grimace. “Disgusting as usual. Will you be ok though? You're always so busy...” Sehun noted. Chanyeol felt suddenly glad he wasn’t the only one doubting Baekhyun’s ability to multitask and his choice on the matter.

“I’ll be fine,” Baekhyun reassured. “Unless the department falls into complete chaos because a second year student is missing, that is.”

“You never know, that could totally happen,” Sehun shared seriously.

Baekhyun snorted in return.

Chanyeol drank a sip of his citron tea and basked in the sensation of the warm liquid giving his throat some relief — and heavy tingling.

“Shall we practice some more? Kyungsoo hyung can sing if Chanyeol hyung can’t,” Sehun prompted and Kyungsoo muttered back some death threat, slowly taking his place behind the drum kit once again. Sehun didn’t look like he was threatened at all. “Hyung, c’mon. Chanyeol hyung too. Move those asses, let’s make some music.”

Baekhyun came up to drag Chanyeol away from where he was still brooding with his tea and his doubts. He took the bottle away, took a sip for himself before Chanyeol could even process it. “C’mon Yeol? I wanna play.”

_Yeol?_

 

.

 

The Chemistry Club didn’t reunite, as one would expect, in the Chemistry Lab but rather in a small, cramped room on the top floor of the Maths building. Two desks, a few chairs, plants and a cabinet were all that could be found in the small room. It was definitely not thought to be a Chemistry Club room, but rather  a Journalism Club one. Professor Lee from Inorganic Chemistry, who helped with the club, had heavily complained about such an arrangement, especially since he’d just asked one of the students —his assistant for this— to fill in the papers for him and the guy hadn’t made it in time to snatch the one of labs for all of the days they needed. Kim Himchan hyung had scolded Yoo Youngjae for a whole afternoon after finding out, and that had been followed by professor Lee being extremely pissed off for a week. Chanyeol had been grateful he wasn’t as clumsy as Yoo Youngjae.

They had solved it, somehow, deciding to write more papers and cram the experiments in the few dates they had the lab available, and that’s what they were trying to do that day: decide what to write about for the next article appearing in the school Science Magazine - The Orb.

It was a warm day, they’d even left the window open to let some fresh air in. The spring breeze was intoxicating: it left Chanyeol in a daze, a constant imbalance between being sleepy and being distracted. He could hear Yoona noona’s voice, in the background, with that soothing tone that was so characteristic of her — he should’ve been listening, but his mind was wandering amongst acoustic guitars and strings and cherry blossoms in the rain.

“Yeol what do you think?,” Yoona questioned, gently touching his forearm. Chanyeol inhaled harshly, startled, and looked at her with the eyes of someone who’d just seen a ghost. She giggled. “Wow, he’s completely out isn’t he? Were you even listening?”

“He wasn’t, I’ve been looking at him for the last twenty minutes. I’m gonna have _you_ write this article if you keep daydreaming, huh?” Himchan hyung warned. Chanyeol blinked, still looking like a deer in headlights, then went to massage his eyes with his fingertips.

“I’m just very distracted lately, I apologize. What were we talking about?” He quickly threw a glance towards Wonshik, who seemed as distracted as he was and Yoo Youngjae flicking through pages of articles drafts they’d prepared for the previous meeting.

“It’s fine. I left the house wearing slippers today. Spring does that,” Yoona shared with another gentle laugh, understanding . Everything about Yoona was soft and calibrated, and she had once admitted herself how she was a bit obsessed with looking and acting like a lady, since she was a kid. She was still the smartest of their department and Chanyeol often called her when he needed help for assignments.

“Spring also makes us meet here instead of a proper lab. We’re a Chemistry Cub and we’re writing articles because we can’t make any experiments,” Himchan continued and it was Yoona’s turn to glare at him when Youngjae bit on his bottom lip and seemed ready for another scolding.

“He apologized. Cut it, oppa,” She clipped, and she turned towards Chanyeol once again. “So, Park Chanyeol. We have this article about doctors using drugs who killed both the patience and the disease, and an analysis of the drugs they used. Or Youngjae had proposed something about Rudolph A. Marcus’s theory of electron transfer. Do you have any other idea?”

Chanyeol frowned and looked at each one of them confused, since he had no idea what their opinions had been until that moment. “I’d say…” he started, looking out of the window for a moment. “Isn’t the first article a little too medicine related? We don’t have a medicine club but we have a biology one, maybe they would be more interested in writing about that, I think,” he shared.

Both Yoona’s and Himchan’s faces seemed to light up a little and Chanyeol almost sighed in relief. “I’d vote for the second one,” he concluded, his voice a little lower.

“I could cover that, if Youngjae helped me find some material,” Wonshik offered. Chanyeol actually sighed in relief this time, because that would mean he’d get some lab time for the next week, most likely with Himchan hyung or Yoona, while the other half of the club researched about the topic and took care of the article.

“It’s decided then.” Himchan stretched, and zigzagged between the two big office desks to get to the window near where Chanyeol was sitting. “You’re kinda right, though. It’s getting warm, who the hell would want to study? Give me a cup of and cherry blossoms and...ahhh, that would be _the life_ ,” Himchan said.

They all laughed briefly because it was so typical of Himchan to switch mood from serious and threatening to lazy and easy going in a matter of minutes.

“If you do that tell me, I’d join, hyung,” Chanyeol replied with a pat on Himchan’s back before flopping on the surface of the desk without energy. “Life is so hard,” he whined with more of a dramatic tone than intended.

“You didn’t look so depressed the other day when I saw you with that kid from the Political Science Department, though,” Himchan objected, turning around with a raised eyebrow. “What was his name again? I’ve heard it a couple of times and Kim Junmyeon likes him. Bae? Paek?”

“It’s Byun,” Chanyeol replied automatically, with no emotion into his voice. “Where have you seen me, hyung? Why didn’t you say hi?”

Himchan didn’t get to answer, because Yoona cut in, tilting her head to the side in a curious stance. “I saw the two of you together too, actually. I was wondering since when you’d started hanging out with Byun Baekhyun.” She paused and her lips curved upwards. “Are you interested in politics now?”

Chanyeol was a little taken aback both by the questions and by the fact that two people talked about him hanging out with Byun Baekhyun as if it was some kind of extraordinary occurrence. He himself thought he didn’t really match with the boy, but hearing it from other mouths triggered a different sensation in him, and it wasn’t pleasant. “No I just…” he stammered. “I just happened to meet him. He’s alright. Lots of people know him, apparently.”

“We know him too,” Youngjae shared, which only confirmed what Chanyeol already knew about Baekhyun being popular.

“I see,” Yoona replied later. Her face was crystallized in an expression Chanyeol couldn’t quite read, as if she understood something he was very not aware of.

“I got to know him at the Opening Party...The one that Professor Watanabe organized, for freshmen. He was helping, there.” Youngjae added after a while.

“Wasn’t that for our department only?” Himchan questioned, not completely interested judging by the tone he used.

“Professor Park Seokin from the Political Science Department had three more departments to join and Byun Sunbae was there to help, with Kim Junmyeon Sunbae too,” Youngjae explained quickly.

Yoona’s eyes were fixed on Chanyeol when he looked up. She must’ve realized it, because she smiled coily and shook her head. _Nothing_ , she mouthed. Chanyeol furrowed his brows and laughed, a bit forced, when Himchan patted him on the back.

“So you got yourself a popular friend, huh?” he teased and went on with the pats, only they grew in intensity as he kept  “No popular girls to introduce to your hyung, instead? Is Yoora noona doing well?”

“I don’t…” Chanyeol tried to wriggle out from his grip when Himchan grasped his nape. “What the hell hyung?! And I don’t know any pretty girl to introduce to you that you haven’t met already,” he managed to let out, burying his head into his shoulders as Himchan finally let go of him.

“Yaaa, you have a pretty sister and you never take her to school. Let us enjoy the view every once in a while, mh?” Himchan proceeded to wrap his arm around Chanyeol’s shoulder, as if they were old comrades — they weren’t, but Himchan was like that with everyone.

“Oppa are you done?” Yoona cut in. She walked around the table, then dragged Himchan away from Chanyeol and he let her without putting up a fight. Chanyeol massaged his nape with a grimace, glaring at Himchan sideways.

Wonshik and Youngjae were caught up in a conversation about school credits and graduation and Himchan soon went over to another desk to make phone calls. It was a relatively quiet afternoon, Chanyeol was still feeling lethargic and there wouldn’t be cherry blossoms for another week or two, or so the news said.

Yoona scooted next to Chanyeol, flipped through a few papers on the desk distractedly.

“How do you feel about Byun, then?” She tried hard to sound nonchalant, Chanyeol caught it in the tone of her voice and didn’t get why she was trying to be elusive, while asking him.

“You’re oddly interested in him, noona,” Chanyeol nooted, his eyes narrowing as he turned on the chair to face her. “He’s a bit young for you, you know.” Chanyeol’s teasing made her giggle nervously, then slap him lightly on one arm. “Why are you asking?” Chanyeol insisted.

“I’ve known him for a while, I was just curious. We’ve only thought of you as a bit of a loner, it was unusual to see you with someone new so suddenly. And with him, of all people.”

Yoona sounded like she wanted to hint at something Chanyeol didn’t have enough prior knowledge to grasp — something he must know, maybe? “What are you trying to tell me?” He paused, leaned in closer to Yoona as if trying to squeeze more info out of her, but all she did was lift her shoulders.

“Nothing, just-”

“Ya Park Chanyeol, they’re looking for you,” Wonshik called from near the door where he had just paused his conversation with Youngjae to open the door for Byun Baekhyun. He was half hanging from the door frame, half holding his weight onto the door handle, looking inside curiously. He broke in a grin when he met Chanyeol’s eyes — it was enough to wake him up like a jolt of electricity spreading through his body.

“Practice?” Baekhyun asked after a quick bow to everyone left in the room, and Chanyeol couldn’t say no.

 

.

 

Same stairs, same cherry red Gibson. Baekhyun even flopped in the same spot on the last step, but this time he was sitting cross legged with his guitar on his lap — Chanyeol noticed he’d gotten rid of the band aids on his fingertips except for the one wrapped around his ring finger.

Baekhyun was biting hard on the inside of his cheek, his brows knitted together in concentration as he plucked at the strings of his guitar singularly and he tightened the D string.

“A little less?” he asked, looking up at Chanyeol for confirmation.

Chanyeol could’ve given him a proper answer but he felt like teasing Baekhyun a little that day — a small revenge for serving Yoona and the others the perfect reason to gossip about him. He shrugged. “You should know.”

“I hate you.”

“Nah, you don’t. C’mon.”

Baekhyun huffed, muttering an insult under his breath that Chanyeol decided to ignore. Baekhyun plucked at the D string, then the E one, then the A to compare the sounds. In the end he loosened one of the tuners and finally the note sounded about right. He seemed excited about it; he flicked the other strings too, one by one and in the end played a chord.

The strumming looked natural, the way he moved the pick across the strings did too. If at the beginning Chanyeol had thought Baekhyun didn’t really match that Gibson AS330, he’d started to see charm into that dissonance as it got more subtle. The guitar was growing on him, or maybe it was him finally molding himself on it. Whatever the case, Chanyeol was intrigued.

“It’s hard to get it tuned without a piano,” Baekhyun complained, tickling the strings again, on after thought.

“You don’t have to, people use tuners, you know. But you did great, it was tuned.”

Baekhyun looked up with a dazzling smile and Chanyeol’s breath got stuck in his throat for a moment. It was just a fleeting second, and then Baekhyun was looking down again, slowly positioning his fingers on the correct tabs. He struggled — his little finger kept slipping but in the end he managed to keep it steady. Chanyeol observed carefully, just throwing casual glances to the corridor in case someone came to disturb them.

“I’ve been trying to play this thing for a while,” Baekhyun said, then started to strum lightly. The chords were unsure at first and Chanyeol couldn’t really point out what the song was. Baekhyun shook his head, a vague redness dusting his cheeks. “I’m not good at it,” he said an dropped his hand so that it didn’t touch the strings.

“No, go on. C’mon Baekhyun-ah, show me.”

Chanyeol reached out and put Baekhyun’s hand where it was.

“Play. I know you want to play.”

Baekhyun breathed in and started playing again, tentative. He stumbled on one chord and Chanyeol somehow understood what he was trying to do. “Like this,” he said and used his finger to fix his on the correct tabs to play a decent C minor. “Try again.”

Baekhyun did once, then continued and he smiled softly when he nailed it on the second repetition.

“Is it ‘Where Is My Mind’ by Pixies?” Chanyeol tried and Baekhyun literally lit up and kept strumming with more enthusiasm, nodding.

“With your feet in the air and your head on the ground…” Chanyeol sang, his voice low.

“That one, yes.” Baekhyun kept strumming a little more, then stopped and leaned on the wall. He closed his eyes and Chanyeol averted his gaze, looking ahead in the deserted corridor.

“Baekhyun-ah…” Chanyeol called, his voice raspy. Baekhyun cracked an eye open, he hummed. “Did you get that guitar from someone in your family?”

“No…” Baekhyun responded vaguely, and he let the sentence hang like that.

Chanyeol didn’t insist. He’d learned quite quickly that pressing Baekhyun didn’t help with obtaining the answers he wanted. He hummed in understanding, as he realized how little he knew of Baekhyun, of his family or his life. What he knew was that he liked politics, he was quite popular in K. University and that he wanted to learn how to play the guitar — not much.

“Then do they know that you’re learning to play? Do they approve?”

Baekhyun waited a few seconds before replying with a faint nod. “They know I started to learn. My mother knows, but she didn’t tell me what she thought of it.” He went silent, searching for Chanyeol’s eyes. “She doesn’t talk much, my mom.”

Chanyeol hummed again, playing with the edges of a spare pick that he’d fished out of his pocket. “Mine didn’t approve at first. They said it was noisy. I think they just gave up at some point,” he shared belatedly.

Baekhyun didn’t say anything in response so Chanyeol didn’t add anything else either. They stayed in the quiet of the Department in silence for a minute or two. When Chanyeol glanced back at Baekhyun, however, he found out Baekhyun had been looking already.

“Chanyeol-ah, can you make music?” He asked out of the blue. Chanyeol was taken aback. He straightened up to properly look at Baekhyun — his fingers closed on the pick. The boy’s face didn’t look like he was teasing him.

“Compose a song, you mean?”

Baekhyun nodded.

“I do,” Chanyeol simply replied, some seriousness to his tone.

He’d messed around with Jiho in the backyard with their guitars and a bunch of those notebooks made especially for writing music, when he was a kid. They thought it would be that easy to make a song and become someone famous — easy, though their fingers were still stiff on their strings and they couldn’t play their F chords properly. He could only _really_ start saying that he could compose his own music when Jiho and him created the Housewives, though they rarely got the chance to play their original songs— the public never cared about originals. “A former member of the band used to help me compose them. Now it’s mostly Kyungsoo. It’s a bit early for you to start composing though,” he added.

Baekhyun chuckled until his laugh diluted into a small smile.

“Why were you asking?”

Baekhyun hesitated, then removed his glasses to rub them with the hem of his sweater. “Just...I’ve had this song playing over and over in my mind for a while, you see?”

“A song?” Chanyeol asked — he sounded skeptical, even though he was mostly confused. “What song?”

“I don’t know the title, I’m sorry.” Baekhyun put his glasses back, then tilted his head slightly, his fringe fanned over his eyes. “I could sing it for you, if you want.”

“Do you even know how to sing?” Chanyeol teased. He expected Baekhyun to glare at him or shoot back one of his snarky replies, but he didn’t — he snorted.

“I don’t know…? I...I think I don’t. But I can try,” he said. “It goes more or less like this.”

Baekhyun started to sing, without much thought to it. Almost instinctively, it seemed. There was a color to his voice, not only the tone itself but the passion and lingering melancholy into it. It was a song Chanyeol had never heard before and Baekhyun was singing with his eyes slightly closed and his hands closed into fists. It was just a melody with no lyrics and Baekhyun was trying hard to give it some sense just using _la la la_.

It went on for maybe ten, fifteen seconds, then it stopped.

Chanyeol never wanted it to stop.

He felt goosebumps on his arms as a shiver traveled down his spine. His heart skipped a beat, or maybe it was drumming so hard in his chest he couldn’t breathe— yes that must’ve been it. He couldn’t take his eyes off Baekhyun; his whole being was trying to reason with the fact that what he’d just heard was indeed Baekhyun voice. There was a beauty to him that he hadn’t noticed before, he wanted Baekhyun to sing more— to look at him and sing more.

However Baekhyun didn’t keep on singing and he turned around, embarrassed — the tips of his ears were slightly red, Chanyeol noticed.

“That was bad…,” he murmured more to himself than to Chanyeol scraping the back of his nape.

It took a while for Chanyeol to react — he couldn’t believe he’d thought Baekhyun didn’t match with music. He’d been a complete idiot to think Baekhyun shouldn’t do music and keep going with whatever he was doing; with his politics and his speeches. To hell that, to hell his politics. He didn’t need any of that.

Baekhyun needed to sing.

“What...the hell was that?” He asked, reaching out to grab Baekhyun’s forearm out of instinct. Baekhyun tried to retreat, looking at Chanyeol confusedly.

“Huh?”

That hadn’t been the right question. Chanyeol tried again, loosening the grip on Baekhyun’s forearm; he couldn’t mess this up. “You’re joining the band, right? That’s what you were thinking of doing, right?”

Baekhyun blinked once, twice. “What?”


	5. Track 04

**Track 04**

 

The _kalguksu_ restaurant near the canal in Jaegidong was nearly deserted except for the two ahjummas who owned the restaurant and a drunk old man in the corner who was napping on his _mandu guk_ — he was snoring lightly and every now and then he sniffled and woke himself up, before dozing off again.

Chanyeol was distractedly looking at the old man, cheek rested on the palm of his hand and chopsticks moving the noodles around inside the metal bowl.

“You’re taking awfully long to eat that. Are you not hungry?” Jiho leaned in and stole a sliced zucchini from Chanyeol’s bowl — he got no reaction to that, where Chanyeol would’ve normally snapped and battled with his chopsticks until he got his zucchini back.

“I don’t know…,” Chanyeol replied, like in a daze. He dragged his gaze towards Jiho, his lips turned down in a disappointed pout. Jiho grimaced, reaching out to steal some noodles from Chanyeol’s bowl again.

“Ehw, don’t look at me like that! You’re ugly, man. Are you drunk or what? I said let’s meet because I wanted to catch up but what’s this? You’ve been sulking for the last twenty minutes and I have news about a job and stuff,” Jiho complained, then slurped up a spoonful of noodles.

Chanyeol turned around so that he could stretch his legs and rest his back on the wall — the tables were always too low for his legs, especially when eating while sitting cross legged on the floor. “You got a job?” He asked with the enthusiasm of someone going to a funeral.

“I suddenly don’t want to tell you.”

Chanyeol groaned, tilting his head to the side to look at Jiho. “I’m _so_ interested,” he said, dragging that _so_ with such a sarcastic tone that Jiho frowned.

“You’re an asshole, did anyone tell you?”

“All the time. You especially.” Chanyeol smirked and Jiho chortled in defeat, hanging his head low and reaching with both hands to completely steal Chanyeol’s bowl from under his nose.

“This is my prize for not telling you to fuck off today. Look at what an amazing friend I am, huh?” Jiho wiggled his eyebrows a little and dug in with a big portion of noodles. He’d always been a messy eater, a messy speaker, a messy everything — but girls still _adored_ Jiho. Whatever disgusting thing he did must’ve added to his charisma, or so Chanyeol had grown to believe because there was no other possible explanation.

“You’re the best. Especially when you leave people’s bands, that’s especially awesome,” Chanyeol clipped back, a bit teasing and a bit bitter at the same time. Jiho made a ridiculous sad face at that, then put his hands together still holding onto the chopsticks.

“I beg your forgiveness, master,” he said solemnly, sounding like a period drama. Chanyeol could’ve laughed but only made a small smile at that— he wasn’t going to let Jiho win. He had every intention to be bitter about Jiho leaving the Housewives until they were fifty.  
  
“Fuck off,” he added, lightly kicking Jiho from under the table.

“Why are you moping though?” Jiho said around a mouthful of noodles and vegetables.

Chanyeol groaned and the old drunk man on the other side of the restaurant made a noise with his mouth in return. Jiho snorted, “Is he your friend?” He whispered.

Chanyeol sighed, shaking his head with a tired smile. “What if there was a person who was _really_ good  had insisted for a long time that they wanted to learn how to play the guitar. For like, months they nag and nag at you.” He met Jiho’s eyes, to confirm that he was listening. Jiho hummed. “And then you find out they have a great voice, so you ask them to join your band and they say… _I’m not into that_.”

Chanyeol paused a second or two. “It’s for a friend,” he added on second thought, a little embarrassed.

Jiho stared at him in disbelief. “And this friend is totally _not_ you, right?”

“Absolutely.” Chanyeol nodded.

“Yeah, whatever you say,” Jiho replied, and threw another disapproving glance. “Well, nothing can be done if they don’t want to join, I’d say.”

Chanyeol’s eyes darted to Jiho’s face as he quickly gestured as he said “But it can’t be! He’s been insisting for ages and then I- _my friend_ asks him and he says that? Why learn how to play, then?”

Jiho chewed on his bottom lip, thinking, then he shrugged lightly. “How would I know? But I learned, and then I left the band. Not everyone wants to join a group. Maybe he just wants to play because he wants to and it’s as simple as that.”

Chanyeol muttered something that made absolutely no sense and tapped his fingers on the table. “It’s such a waste if he doesn’t sing, with a voice like that…”

“ _Your friend_ can’t exactly force this other guy, I guess. It’s a guy, right? Just find someone else, it’s not that hard. Other than that...why a singer? The Housewives have you already,” Jiho debated.

Chanyeol hesitated before responding. Mostly because he didn’t know the answer to the question. _The housewives had him_ , of course. “You should’ve heard him sing. He’s that good. I’d rather let him sing than sing myself.”

Jiho raised an eyebrow, inhaled deeply. “Nothing to be done, then. Either you insist or you give up and find someone else. I can’t help you here.”

Chanyeol sighed and lowered his gaze to the stains of soup on the low table. One of the ahjummas shouted an order towards the kitchen when a new client entered the restaurant.

Jiho was right after all, there wasn’t much to be done if Baekhyun didn’t want to join. And yet, Chanyeol still got chills when he recalled Baekhyun singing on those stairs, a few days earlier. He couldn’t pinpoint what exactly that underlying sadness in his voice was, but it made his singing unique; it gave it purpose.

“I can’t let a voice like that go unheard. I can’t give up, you know?”

“Mmh…” Jiho propped his chin on the back of his hands, elbows on the table. He stared at Chanyeol, as if trying to figure him out. It made Chanyeol slightly uncomfortable.  
  
“Why are you looking at me like that?” Chanyeol rubbed his mouth with the end of his sleeve, thinking he had something there.

Jiho smirked in return. “So...It wasn’t for _a friend_ in the end. Spit it out. Who’s this guy. Who are you replacing me with. Tell me. Everything.”

Chanyeol suddenly wish for the Earth to open and swallow him, upon realizing his mistake. He opened his mouth only to have the words die in his throat — there was no point in avoiding Jiho’s questions. The guy knew how to get anything out of Chanyeol.

 

.

 

“Why are you whining to me, now?” Kyungsoo asked after moving a bunch of Guns & Roses albums from the back of a box to the front, so that people could reach them more easily.

“Because you were as surprised as I was about him refusing, weren’t you?”

Chanyeol followed Kyungsoo around Janet’s House like a lost puppy, his guitar bouncing on his back at every step he took. Thankfully the shop was almost deserted, as it usually was in the evening. Kyungsoo had put aside Lee Moonse’s last ballad disc for some good old Fleetwood Mac— it perfectly matched the shop’s atmosphere in the dim, warm lights and the characteristic smell of old discs. Some were incredibly old, though most people just entered the shop to buy trot cassettes.

Kyungsoo stopped suddenly, Chanyeol almost bumping into him and Kyungsoo turned around only to physically move Chanyeol to the right. “Yes,” he started, proceeding to flick through a bunch of discs of some guy Chanyeol had never heard of before. “I was as surprised as you were because, frankly speaking, I would’ve very much liked it if he joined us, especially if he’s half as good as you say he is. But he said no, Yeol. What do you want me to do?”

Chanyeol carded a hand through his hair in frustration. “I don’t know, talk to him? You’re better at convincing people than I am. You always manage to get us paid even when people don’t like us. C’mon, Soo-ya!”

Kyungsoo sighed and restacked some discs in alphabetical order as Fleetwood Mac’s Landslide slowly transitioned into World Turning. “Byun Baekhyun talks to you more than he talks to both Sehunie and I put together so I’m not sure how _I_ should convince him, if you didn’t manage.”

Chanyeol contracted his lips into a line when Kyungsoo words hit him. “You want him in the band as much as I do. Oh Sehun as well,” he insisted and ended up repeating what Kyungsoo had just clarified. Kyungsoo finally stopped with the discs and rested his weight partially on the displays.

“I do. And he’s been really helpful here too. He likes the job and he likes music. The clients seem to like him too because he has a good suggestion for everyone even if he doesn’t know about music very much yet. So yes, I do want him in our band. We’ve been telling you for months,” Kyungsoo shared, exasperated.

“But he won’t join,” Chanyeol replied, dejected. He stuck his hands in his pocket when Kyungsoo shook his head lightly. They moved closer to the cashier and Kyungsoo opened it and started counting the money for the day. On the counter, a small notebook showed the finances of Janet’s House.

“Have you asked him why he doesn’t want to join?” Kyungsoo questioned while writing down a couple of numbers and the titles of the disc and cassettes they sold today.

“Yes,” Chanyeol started, and then realized he hadn’t. “Wait no, I haven’t. But he won’t tell me, probably. He never tells me a thing. I don’t understand what’s so secret. People become friends over a meal and we’ve all known him for a couple of months and know nothing.”

Kyungsoo looked up at him with a puzzled expression. “I know enough,” he deadpanned. “If you want to know so much just ask him. If he says no, then it’s done and we can keep having him in the band as an audience while he learns. Maybe he’ll change his mind one day.”

Chanyeol shifted his weight from one foot to the other, restless. He wanted Baekhyun to say _yes_ and play with them and he wanted it now, not some day in the future. If there was something he’d learned from Jiho leaving the band, it was that things can change dramatically when one least expects them.

“I’ll have to ask him again,” he concluded. Kyungsoo seemed to agree meeting Chanyeol’s eyes once more and closing the notebook.  
  
“Why not now? He’s on shift and he should be done soon.”

“He’s here now?” Chanyeol asked as his eyes grew to the size of golf balls. “He heard all of our conversation?!” He screamed-whispered, both hands on the counter and leaning closer to Kyungsoo.

The drummer snorted. “You’re so fucked,” he said. “He’s doing inventory in the back, do you really think I’d talk so freely of him knowing he’s behind that door overhearing? Which...he probably is. It’s a possibility.” He wiggled his eyebrows, the fucker.

Chanyeol went very white and slapped his palm on his face. He tried to contain his homicidal instincts towards Kyungsoo as he went to sit on a children sized chair next to the counter after leaving his guitar on the floor. “Do I wait for him?”

“It’s a free world, Yeol.”

 

The door to the back of Janet’s House opened fifteen minutes later to a sleepy Baekhyun in a large green sweater, jeans and all stars. “Kyungsoo-ya,” he called. He almost sounded like a child. “I’m done. Has anyone ever cleaned that place? I’ve inhaled more dust in there than I ever have in my life…”

“Someone must have...maybe ten years ago?” Kyungsoo replied jokingly.

Chanyeol sat rigid on his chair, unsure whether he should say hi first and announce his presence or wait for Baekhyun to notice him there. He didn’t even know what he was worrying so much about.

Baekhyun zigzagged around the shelves carrying a box of cassettes and finally noticed Chanyeol when he reached the closest to the counter. His expression changed completely and he broke in a smile that was...happy. Chanyeol didn’t know what other word could define it.

“Oh, Chanyeol-ah hi,” he said and he walked up to the counter to drop the cardboard box carelessly. “You came here to see Kyungsoo?,” he asked and Chanyeol was very careful not to look at Kyungsoo then.

“Yeah, sort of,” he replied nonchalantly. “I didn’t know you had a shift together.”

“We don’t,” Kyungsoo replied instead. “It was supposed to be Baekhyun’s shift but he wanted to clean the inventory so he asked me to extend my shift.”

Baekhyun coughed a couple of times and then suddenly sneezed folding into two. He made a noisy whine leaning into the counter. “Never again. Next time we switch and _you_ clean the inventory.”

“Nobody told you to do it,” Kyungsoo singsonged as he sat on the stool behind the counter. “I’m going to wrap up everything and close, you can go with Chanyeol,” he continued.

“Mh?” Baekhyun pulled himself up and alternated looks from Kyungsoo to Chanyeol and viceversa. “Why?”

“Chanyeol was saying he wanted to have chicken but I’m meeting Oh Sehun once I’m done here, so I can’t go with him. Why don’t you go instead?”

Chanyeol had never talked about chicken and he had no idea Kyungsoo had to meet Sehun, but whatever the drummer was planning Chanyeol didn’t know whether to feel grateful or to panic. Baekhyun turned to Chanyeol once again, folding his arms on his chest.

“Should we go have chicken then? I’m fine with it if you are. And I kinda want chicken now that he talked about it,” Baekhyun’s smile expanded to his voice.

“Let’s go have chicken, then,” Chanyeol agreed with a more hesitant smile. He quickly glanced at Kyungsoo, half terrified and half determined and finally stood up, ready to sling the guitar onto his back.

“I’ll go get my stuff,” Baekhyun said. He looked particularly excited at the perspective of chicken, since he was still smiling when he disappeared inside the inventory room once again, humming to Rhiannon by Fleetwood Mac which was playing in the shop at that moment.

Chanyeol turned around to look at Kyungsoo, only to find him focused on the door to the back of the shop— the one Baekhyun had just closed behind himself. “Rather than chicken you should get him to sleep. I don’t know how he’s still walking these days.”

Chanyeol followed Kyungsoo’s gaze to the door, then went back to him slowly. “Too busy, huh?”

“He keeps saying he’s fine but he was dozing off today. Standing.” The drummer sighed loudly. “I don’t mind, we rarely have people come in during his shifts but I’d rather he slept on a bed at night rather than standing, here.”

“I told you it was a bad idea,” Chanyeol murmured in response. Kyungsoo’s reply came in the form of a flick of his shoulders because Baekhyun walked out of the back room with his guitar on his back and a messenger bag. He did seem tired, once Chanyeol had to chance to look at him again — his eyes looked smaller behind the frames of his glasses.

“Shall we go?” Baekhyun said with a huff, trying to make sense of the incredibly uncomfortable crisscross between the messenger bag strap and the guitar case straps on his torso. Chanyeol stared for a couple of seconds and decided to simply give an affirmative nod.

“Tell Oh Sehun my mom wants him for lunch next Monday,” Chanyeol reminded Kyungsoo as he opened the door — Baekhyun a step behind him.

“Tell him yourself,” Kyungsoo replied, not even looking at the two of them leaving. Chanyeol blew him a greasy kiss and that made Baekhyun laugh stupidly, as they finally left.

The evening breeze was nice and there weren’t many people near Anam Station at that time of the evening — the flow of students significantly reduced after classes, and Chanyeol always found it oddly refreshing to take a stroll near school with nobody around.

Baekhyun was quiet, but Chanyeol noticed he was stealing glances at him at the corner of his eyes, every now and then. He also kept trying to adjust the messenger bag strap so it wouldn’t dig into his neck, to no avail. There was a red patch spreading just above his shoulder. He never complained, however, which made Chanyeol feel even more fidgety. _Jesus can’t he just…_

Chanyeol groaned and stopped Baekhyun by the neck of his guitar, which had him walk forward and inevitably be dragged back. He looked up confusedly. “What’s wrong?”

“Just…” Chanyeol manually slid one of the guitar straps lower on Baekhyun’s shoulder, then stopped himself when he felt Baekhyun go a little rigid under his touch. “Put down the guitar for a moment, I’ll take the bag,” he explained and Baekhyun seemed to relax a little; he smiled.

“Alright,” he said.

He slid the guitar off his shoulder and Chanyeol helped with the messenger bag, ending up just slinging it on his shoulder. “The strap is so short,” he commented laughing.

“Wow, I hadn’t noticed.” Baekhyun’s reply was flat but he was smirking when he met Chanyeol’s eyes.

They walked next to each other, both with guitars on their back. Chanyeol had to admit he liked the picture; no matter how much he had tried to push Baekhyun away. In the end as Baekhyun yawned and stretched his back at the traffic light he realized he was glad to have met him.

Baekhyun yawned again, noisily, then rested his head on the traffic light pole and closed his eyes. Chanyeol felt the impellent need to push the boy closer to him instead and justified it in his mind because that’s exactly what Sehun would’ve done: rest his head on Chanyeol’s shoulder and complained about how life sucked.

“Byun Baekhyun…,” he called. Baekhyun forced himself to open his eyes and he fixed them on Chanyeol, drowsy. “I’ll just walk you to your room, you’re not going to last through chicken.”

Baekhyun frowned, upset then shook his head. He even slapped his own face and howled in frustration before Chanyeol could stop him. The traffic light turned green but they didn't move. “I haven’t slept in days, but it’s fine I’ll take a nap later. After chicken, I mean.” He paused, grinned. “Or you could feed me chicken, you know.”

Chanyeol rolled his eyes, then grabbed him by the guitar again to drag him to the street and finally cross — it was red, but no cars to be seen. “You always say so much bullshit, Byunbaek,” he noted lightly. Baekhyun chuckled and stumbled a little, trying to follow Chanyeol’s pace. “You shouldn’t have taken the job,” he added after, repeating what he’d just told Kyungsoo.

“I know, but I like busy,” Baekhyun shrugged, knuckling up his glasses. “I don’t think too much when I’m busy.”

Chanyeol stopped his eyes on the boy for a long moment as he reached the other side of the road. “Think about what?,” he questioned and didn’t stop looking.

“Mostly what I want, what others want…”

Chanyeol swallowed dryly. Baekhyun tilted his head to look at him, his lips curled up in a tired smile — his mole was particularly visible, under the orange lights of the street lamps. “What? Did I get too gloomy? Let’s talk about chicken instead. I’m hungry, don’t let me go to bed without dinner, c’mon man.”

Chanyeol remained quiet, then snorted in disbelief, pushing aside Baekhyun’s comment on being gloomy. _He didn’t want to think_ , so Chanyeol wouldn’t be the one person to force him to. “Are you sure you want chicken? You’ll digest that tomorrow afternoon if we eat it now. What about-”

“What’s with you and not wanting to eat chicken with me?”

“No it’s just-” Chanyeol tried.

“Chicken.”

Baekhyun was a stubborn bastard and Chanyeol sighed. _Can’t win_ he thought, as he gently guided Baekhyun into one of the side streets to get his damn chicken. He also found himself thinking that he didn’t mind this side of Baekhyun after all: the nagging, almost childish side of him.

Chanyeol wasn’t listening as Baekhyun blabbered about when they walked around the corner into a slightly darker alleyway. He was talking about how he liked his rice or something and Chanyeol didn’t know how he’d gotten to that topic. He saw the sign for the chicken place, and he raised his arm to point it at Baekhyun next to him, when he realized that Baekhyun’s incessant chatting had stopped and that he was a few steps behind him.

“Byun Baekhyun?” Someone called. It was a voice Chanyeol didn’t recognize, but given Baekhyun’s reaction, he must have.

He was paralyzed on the spot, with his eyes wide and hands curled into fists. Chanyeol couldn’t see his face, not immediately. All he had access too were Baekhyun’s shoulders and they seemed contracted into a hard line — Chanyeol stared long enough to see them flinch slightly first, then shake imperceptibly.

The guy who had spoken made a few tentative steps closer with a surprised and at the same time somewhat awkward smile on his face. Chanyeol looked at him as he instinctively moved just a tad closer to Baekhyun _just in case_ . Whoever this person was, Baekhyun’s reaction spoke for itself; _someone from his past, maybe?_

He was more or less as tall as Baekhyun, same built, he even looked around the same age, maybe a year older or younger, Chanyeol couldn’t be sure. His hair were messy, his lips a little cat-like— he had odd eyebrows, they lowered a little at the sides and that was made even more obvious by the way his smile faltered, probably upon realizing Baekhyun had no intention to reply.

“It’s you, isn’t it? We haven’t talked for so long, I came back from the military…” He kept going, getting even closer and stopping at some point at half a meter or so from them. In other circumstances Chanyeol would’ve bowed in greeting, had Baekhyun introduced them but the whole situation just baffled him. It wasn’t normal for Baekhyun to act this way, to look this _scared_? Yes, he looked terrified. Baekhyun, who was always so bright and funny looked like he’d faced Death.

“Have you done your military service yet?” The guy asked, and Chanyeol almost physically heard Baekhyun swallow.

Silence.

Baekhyun stepped back and almost stumbled into Chanyeol’s feet with a subtle gasp. He shook his head and just now, stealing a glimpse, Chanyeol realized Baekhyun had been staring at the ground all this time. He held him steady with one hand just under his shoulder— he should’ve probably done it earlier. Baekhyun was tense, a spring ready to jump.

The guy giggled an embarrassed laugh, he scratched the back of his neck and met eyes with Chanyeol for a moment before drifting onto Baekhyun and focusing on him: his expression went from surprised and embarrassed to shocked, then confused.

“Is that…” he started and lowered his head to the side. “Is that Junki hyung’s guitar? Are you playing now?”

Chanyeol had no time to fully realize what was happening. He suddenly felt Baekhyun’s hand in his and a pull. Baekhyun wasn’t running, but he might as well have been. He didn’t seem to be knowing where to go, because they got further away into the smallest alleyways, where all that could be seen was old apothecary shops and iron repairers.

“Baekhyun, wait, stop,” Chanyeol tried to pull back, to force him to just stop running but Baekhyun couldn’t hear him and Chanyeol, as much as he wanted Baekhyun to stop, also really didn’t want to hurt him nor let go of him.

“Baekhyun what the hell, what’s going on?!”

Baekhyun clenched his hand harder around Chanyeol’s fingers, his head hung low. He took a left, then a right— Chanyeol had never seen those streets and he’d lived in that neighborhood for quite some time. Baekhyun was getting them lost into this maze of dimly lit roads and he kept going, ignoring Chanyeol’s voice until he finally reached a dead end in a completely empty street. He looked left and right in fright, like an animal in a cage and when he realized that all he could see were walls, he dragged Chanyeol into the only opened door he could see, then stopped.

It was a storage room into a small, traditional building— Chanyeol had had to lower his head to get in and even now was slightly crouching as well as trying not to touch anything. What was visible in the darkness were a bunch of pieces of metal of various sizes to one side and sacks of rice to the other. The only source of light into the room was coming from the outside; it was cold, foreign and scary. Chanyeol wanted to get out of there, to get Baekhyun out of there.

“Byun Baekhyun, what’s wrong?” He asked, as he noticed Baekhyun kept the same, rigid stance in the center of the room— he hadn’t let go of Chanyeol’s hand yet, but he loosened the grip when Chanyeol spoke again.

“Baekhyun-ah,” Chanyeol got closer hesitantly, then bent forward to look at Baekhyun’s face in the shadows. “Baekhyun-ah, what was that? Who was that?” He reached out to push Baekhyun’s fringe aside— his hand was almost shaking and he felt his heart jump into his throat and beat there instead of inside his chest. Then he saw Baekhyun’s face, the constrained lines of it; his eyes were missing that usual glow Chanyeol felt so charmed by. Baekhyun was biting hard on the inside of his cheek, panting.

Baekhyun looked like he was going to break in a million pieces. “Look at me,” Chanyeol said as soft and quiet as he could manage. Baekhyun had almost let go of his hand at that point, but Chanyeol held on tighter and Baekhyun slowly, but steadily raised his gaze.

He focused on Chanyeol’s face and breathed out. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, then forced a faint smile on his face that made Chanyeol feel a sudden burst of anger inside him. Why was he apologizing now? Was he gonna walk out of there as if nothing had happened?

“Baekhyun who was that? And who’s Junki hyung?” He asked, repeating the same questions once again. Baekhyun couldn’t avoid it forever. “You don’t want to tell me? You… can’t tell me?”

Baekhyun shook his head, finally giving up on that fake smile. “Just someone I used to know.” He left Chanyeol wondering whether he was talking about the guy they’d just met, or the former owner of the guitar— Chanyeol had the feeling he wouldn’t get his answer that day.

“You scared me there,” Chanyeol admitted and gazed down. Baekhyun’s hands looked small into his— the bandaid still clumsily wrapped around his ring finger was threatening to come off any moment. “You’re still scaring me.”

Baekhyun stayed quiet, then unexpectedly leaned in until his forehead was touching Chanyeol’s shoulder with a relieved sigh. Chanyeol stopped breathing, instead. He couldn’t think, he couldn’t move; he could only feel his heart beat louder and louder to the point that he worried Baekhyun could hear it, could feel how nervous he was.

“Where are we?” Baekhyun murmured, finally retreating and dropping Chanyeol’s hand. Chanyeol missed the weight on his shoulder and the warmth against his palm, but it was just a moment he decided to push aside.

He looked around once more, shrugging. “You brought us here.”

Baekhyun glanced at the rice sacks, then the metal instruments on the other side of the room; he looked bothered. “I don’t...know.”

“Let’s get out of here, c’mon.”

Chanyeol walked out first, and stopped just outside the low building, after making sure that Baekhyun was following him. They took a deep breath — the air was lighter, more breathable outside than it was in that storage room.

“So it really wasn’t your father’s guitar, after all,” Chanyeol noted looking up at the sky getting darker, at the black silhouettes of the buildings. He checked on Baekhyun’s reaction with the corner of his eyes, and sure enough Baekhyun’s eyes darted up to Chanyeol after he’d processed his words.

“Uh? Ah...it’s...A hyung’s. He…” Baekhyun hesitated, munching on the side of his lip like he was trying to find the best combination of words. He didn’t seem too satisfied when he opted for “He didn’t want it anymore.”

Chanyeol avoided to comment on the fact that someone must’ve been very out of their mind not to want that guitar anymore. He even avoided to ask once more about that guy they’d just met— Chanyeol wouldn’t put his hand on it but he looked somewhat familiar.

There was something else that bugged him, something Kyungsoo had suggested he’d ask. It was probably the worst time and the worst place and Chanyeol wasn’t completely sure he could’ve handled another rejection. Yet he _had_ to ask. He wanted to be selfish.

“I know I should mind my own business, and you just had the shittiest 15 minutes of your life but. Baekhyun…” Chanyeol swallowed. “Why don’t you want to join the band?”

If Baekhyun was baffled he didn’t show it. He stared at Chanyeol like he’d done so many other times, like it was the most natural thing ever even if he had nothing in particular to say. This time he had, though.

“You know I...really wanted to learn how to play. I have for a long time. I…” He snorted bitterly. “I’ve wanted to be in a band, to make music. But then...life happened, people happened. Things...made me think maybe it wasn’t for me. And now...it’s real and I wonder…” He stopped, fixing his eyes on Chanyeol’s.

“You wonder…?”

“I wonder if joining wouldn’t be a big mistake, since...you know, things have always worked against it.” That smile on his face was fake, the nonchalant voice he used was fake. That tone like he wasn’t affected, like, after all, it wasn’t a big loss. All of that was _pretending_. Chanyeol had no time for a Baekhyun that pretended.

“Bullshit,” he spit out harshly.

Baekhyun kept smiling, just this time the nature of the smile was diluting into something more apologetic than forced. “Yeol, I’m sorry. It’s too big of a com-”

“Bullshit,” Chanyeol repeated and zeroed on Baekhyun, intimidatory. There was less than a step between them and Chanyeol should’ve concentrated on being frustrated and angry at Baekhyun, not on the way Baekhyun’s glasses had slid down his nose— irritating. “You were made to sing. Your voice, your- ahh…” Chanyeol groaned.

“Yeol…”

“No, you listen to me. I never wanted you in the fucking band. I never wanted to teach you, never even wanted you around at rehearsals because I don’t like outsiders. I like my group and I don’t want more people, understood?” Baekhyun blinked, but didn’t reply.

“I was the most skeptical and not because I hate you but because I thought you just didn’t belong. But then you- damn, you sing Byun Baekhyun. You can sing and that voice of yours, I’ll be damned if I give up on that voice. On you, whatever.”

Baekhyun still didn’t respond and it was too dark for Chanyeol to see his face clearly. Chanyeol, on the other hand, was combusting. He thought he’d feel better after yelling at him about what he thought, like a balloon deflating after piercing it with a needle. That wasn’t what he felt, though. He wasn’t deflating, he wanted to say more and he wanted Baekhyun to react but he only got a sigh back.

“I…” Chanyeol started, and since Baekhyun lifted his face a little, he could finally outline his features. Where he was expecting to see shock or displease Chanyeol read expectation. Baekhyun’s eyes looked sad, but what they were saying was that Baekhyun had been waiting for someone to tell those things to him, for a long time probably. “You asked me if I make music. I don’t, it’s usually Kyungsoo who does it because I had lost interest in music long before my other guitarist left the group. But your singing...” Chanyeol tried to find the words. “Your singing made me want to write music again, to play again.”

Chanyeol grabbed Baekhyun’s shoulders and lowered his head. If he’d leaned in, just a little, their foreheads would’ve grazed. “I want you to sing for me,” he murmured. “Sing _with_ me, please. Say yes.”

On afterthought Chanyeol had probably gone completely crazy. He’d felt like he was possessed, vomiting all that crap on Baekhyun out of the blue. But when he felt Baekhyun’s finger lightly pat behind his ear, he figured out that it hadn’t been such a bad decision after all.

Baekhyun pulled at his ear lightly. “I’ll sing with you, Park Chanyeol. Whatever you say, if you ask it like this.” He needed to make a joke out of everything, it was Baekhyun after all. However Chanyeol was glad, at that point, and he didn’t mind when he actually leaned in and rested his forehead just above Baekhyun’s for a moment.   
It was his way to say thank you.


	6. Track 05

**Track 05**

 

 _Something was missing_ , no matter how many times Chanyeol replayed the melody he’d jutted down in notes on a few loose sheets of paper. Surrounding him there were a few books he’d often found helpful when trying to compose songs, Yoora’s keyboard on the left and his own guitar balanced against his chest. And of course, a lot of paper sheets, some ripped,others just partially crumpled and tossed carelessly on the floor.

Chanyeol huffed and plucked his guitar’s strings experimentally, slowly, trying to make sense of the notes inside his head and then scribbled a couple of notes on the last piece of paper he’d been using, his brows furrowed. _It wasn’t working_. He stroke out what he’d just written, changed one of the notes, tried to play the whole thing again, but nothing.

Chanyeol recalled the melody Baekhyun had sang on those stairs perfectly. It was imprinted into his memory, like if someone had written it there with fire. and he kept humming to it while trying to reproduce it with his guitar. He’d been trying since dawn through the whole morning until he’d given up on his guitar and woken up Yoora to get her keyboard.

Hours later the melody was there and Chanyeol could hear it, feel it following Baekhyun’s voice in his mind as he replayed it with his eyes partially closed. It was like a rough diamond, though. A song is not just the main melody, after all, and though Chanyeol thought he’d managed to give some musical sense to the part Baekhyun would be singing, it he wasn’t fully satisfied. To add to that, he was missing the rest of the parts and his own part wasn’t coming out nicely.

He angrily strummed with no purpose other than relieve some stress. He groaned loudly and let himself fall belly up on the floor, among the sea of papers and books. He wanted the song to be perfect, to reflect and complement Baekhyun’s voice as naturally as Chanyeol could manage, and he didn’t know where this need was stemming from. It wasn’t there one moment and then Baekhyun sang and there it was.

He’d composed songs before, there were all the Housewives’ originals they got to play once in a blue moon and Chanyeol was fairly happy with those; they’d been experiments and it had been fun writing them down and performing them with his friends. This song, however, was different. This wasn’t a song for Chanyeol to have fun with and for people to listen to once as a cue to their covers in a shitty venue in Sillimdong. This was Baekhyun’s song and what he was trying to say with it, all that loneliness, Chanyeol had felt it in his veins.

Baekhyun’s face while singing on the stairs of that deserted Department flashed into Chanyeol’s mind and he strummed angrily again, this time the groan was replaced by an agonizing howl.

“What the hell is going on here?” Yoora opened the door to Chanyeol’s room sticking only her head in. “You’re being hella loud, are you pretending to be a rock star again?”

“I _am_ a rocker, noona,” Chanyeol whined back from the floor. He had no intention of pushing himself up. “Noona I’m writing something and it sounds like shit.”

Yoora walked into the room, carelessly stepping on the crumpled paper sheets and she nudged at Chanyeol’s calf with the point of her foot. “It always sounds like shit,” she said with not an ounce of mercy into her voice.

Chanyeol pouted at her willingly. “Fuck you.”

“C’mon, let me hear it, will you?” She nudged at him again. “C’mon. Noona will tell you if it sucks and then you can cry. Hop hop.”

Chanyeol glared at her but actually levered on his elbows to sit up properly and clear his voice. “I don’t have lyrics for this one yet.”

“Ok.”

Chanyeol digged among the papers to find the most recent one he’d used which had ended up being buried under others when he’d laid down. “Ok, then…”

He adjusted his guitar against his chest and positioned his fingers on the fretboard as he started, picking his strings carefully and stealing glances at Yoora’s perplexed face. He ended up singing a couple of parts that weren’t clear enough on the music sheet and, when he ran out of what he’d written he improvised a couple more bars before stopping altogether.

He didn’t feel the song when he was playing it, and he could only explain it thinking that it was Baekhyun’s song after all. “How was it?” He asked, his eyes fixed on the music sheet deep in thought.

“I want to hear the complete version,” she said, and she joined him to sit on the floor. “Have you shown it to your friends yet?” She took the music sheet from Chanyeol’s hands and stared at it for a few seconds.

Yoora wasn’t an expert or anything. She’d received a little musical education at school, had learned how to play the piano and then given up because she didn’t like it enough. She could interpret what was written on the sheet quite easily, however.

“No, I haven’t yet. I just started to write it based on something a friend sang and I don’t know. It’s not good, is it?” He asked carding a hand through his hair— he definitely needed to shower.

“It’s very different from anything I’ve heard you play so far. It’s not a song you would normally write, I feel,” She explained, unsure. She lowered the music sheet and rested her weight on her arms, leaning back. “But it could suit you. I like it so far. It doesn’t suck.”

She grinned, meeting eyes with Chanyeol and he smiled back.

“I’m glad it doesn’t suck.”

“It’s a great thing it doesn’t, your stuff usually does.”

“Liar, you come to almost all of my concerts noona,” he singsonged putting his guitar aside for a moment. Yoora raised her eyebrows and snorted.

“I only came to two, because you’re my brother.”

“I’m still wondering what all of my friends find so attractive in you,” Chanyeol muttered to himself, as Yoora lifted her foot to kick Chanyeol’s knee with a little more strength than before. Chanyeol smacked it away quickly.

“Shut it, play some more. Maybe ask Jiho or Do Kyungsoo to help you, those kids are smarter than you even when they’re dumb.”

“I pity the guy who’ll marry you,” he kept muttering but this time he was half laughing. Yoora showed him the middle finger like they did in all those american movies they aired on tv, but she didn’t leave.

“Keep playing,” she invited calmly. Chanyeol examined the music sheet once more, sighed, and proceeded to experiment with the keyboard; he would talk to Kyungsoo later.

 

.

 

Chanyeol didn’t get to talk to Kyungsoo for a few days after he’d started composing, which drove him insane because he just needed someone who wasn’t his crazy sister to comment on his song. Someone whose knowledge about music hadn’t stopped in grade 6. Nothing could be done, though. Sehun’s boiler had exploded or something, Kyungsoo had offered to help so he wasn’t available and for the same reason Sehun wasn’t available either.

That left Chanyeol with Jiho, who had recently found a job in a printing company and was even less available than the other two. However his shift finished at six, which meant that Chanyeol would be able to meet him with the promise of a bottle of soju and some anju. Jiho’s printing company was relatively small and the owner had strategically chosen a place in between the two universities in the area, so it was safe to say that they wouldn’t have demand problems in the future.

It was almost seven, an hour later than agreed, when Jiho left the office and met Chanyeol at the entrance of the building. Chanyeol almost didn’t recognize him in slacks and a white shirt— he looked like a real office worker, with a badge hanging on a lanyard on his neck and nice, shiny shoes. His hair was dyed black in contrast to the awful yellow blonde he had dyed his hair a few months before leaving the Housewives, and it was cut short in the most anonymous haircut.

“You’re late,” Chanyeol noted. Jiho didn’t apologize, he shook his head with a _you know nothing_ kind of smile, and patted Chanyeol’s back as they walked out of the building.

“A birdie said you wanted to meet me,” Jiho dropped the bomb immediately, eyeing Chanyeol sideways as they walked in a side street in Dongdaemun-gu. It was already dinner time, and people had started gathering in the small restaurants in the area— the air smelled like onion and spices, of meat and grilled kimchi.

“It wasn’t a birdie, I called you. Idiot.” Chanyeol replied flatly.

“It just sounded cooler if I said it like that. You’re seriously no fun, ParkChan. Have you ever watched american movies, huh?”

Chanyeol turned his head around to look at Jiho with raised eyebrows and a mildly shocked expression. “Do you drink on the workplace?”

“No fun, ParkChan.”

Chanyeol sighed, going back to look straight ahead. “Where are we going? Do you want to drink?”

Jiho thought about it for a moment, as they turned a corner and he stopped to look at the plants in a shop or something. “I’m hungry I think. What if we do chicken and beer first, and then a second round maybe?”

“I didn’t know you were into gardening,” Chanyeol commented vaguely as Jiho even crouched to look at some succulents. “Chicken and beer is fine, I’m starving too. Not sure about round two though, I have class early tomorrow.”

“And I work, ya know.” Jiho stood up, brushed his hands on his knees and unbuttoned the last button of his shirt with an annoyed stretch. “But it’s fun. We could stay out all night, like the old times.”

Chanyeol chortled and he started walking first. Jiho followed soon after until he was back next to Chanyeol and had thrown an arm around his shoulders, even if that meant having to dangerously careen on one side. Jiho was stupid like that.

“I don’t think I’ll survive, honestly. It’s no good if I’m dead in class and I haven’t been sleeping much these days anyway,” Chanyeol shared.

“What’s wrong, tell uncle Jiko.”

“Gross. What’s with the nickname?”

“No idea, some japanese girl made it up in my club, before I left school. I’m still meeting them sometimes, so she still uses it. It’s cool.” Jiho explained, while still hanging on Chanyeol’s shoulder like a toddler. “You haven’t said what’s wrong yet.”

“Mmh…” Chanyeol mumbled, avoiding Jiho’s gaze on purpose. “I’m writing a song, or I’m trying at least.”

Jiho came to a halt all of a sudden, dragging and almost choking Chanyeol in the process. “You’re writing a song? Without me?”

“Fuck off I almost died,” Chanyeol spit back as he wriggled out of Jiho’s grip. “Yeah, I’m writing a song. Without you,” he repeated and it sounded a little more like an accusation, as he spoke around ragged breaths. “I’m writing a song without you, that’s why I needed you,” he said one more time and he swallowed.

Jiho tilted his head to the side, one hand on his hip. “Like hell you do. Can I hear it? What does Do Kyungsoo say about it?”

“Do Kyungsoo doesn’t say anything about it. He’s helping Sehunie to dry his room’s floor. His boiler exploded and the owner said it’s Oh Sehun’s fault. A mess. The kid hasn’t even turned on the thing during winter, Do Kyungsoo had to give him blankets.”

“So you haven’t met him yet?”

“I haven’t. My sister has listened to it, she says something is off. I say something is off and here is where you come into play because you need to tell me what is wrong about it.”

Jiho nodded in understanding. “Where does this idea of composing this song come from though?” He asked, as he and Chanyeol walked into the chicken place. “We’re mostly a cover band. People didn’t like our originals that much, in the past. Do you think it’s a good idea?”

Chanyeol threw his bag on the table closest to the window and looked outside for a moment, before going back to focus on Jiho. “Ah, it’s not my song. Remember the guy I told you about?”

Jiho nodded, then a girl came closer to take their orders. She flirted with Jiho a little— that _always_ happened when Chanyeol was out with Jiho. It came in the package with being friends with him, being completely ignored as all the girls flocked around him. Jiho handed her back the menu and Chanyeol looked outside.

“I remember that guy,” Jiho shared after a while, with a frown. “What does he have to do with a Housewives song?”

Chanyeol’s gaze went to the table, as he listed through the happenings with Baekhyun and the band. He ended up repeating the same things he’d told Kyungsoo, the same things he’d been banging his head over and over in the past weeks. _I want him to sing with us_ , he insisted. He said the same thing at least three times and each time he saw Jiho’s expression changing slightly, varying in hue from interested to genuinely confused. The more Jiho looked like he was seriously questioning Chanyeol’s sanity, the more he felt the need to go over the fact that the song _needed_ to be perfect but it just wasn’t sounding right. _Something was missing_ he said.

He didn’t give Jiho the time to reply, really, vomiting the words on him, echoing sentences. It happened often, even since when they were kids, that they wouldn’t get the chance to meet during vacation or they went on holiday with their families. It was common for Chanyeol to have stuff happening to him. Arguments with his dad or Yoora; he piled it all in some secret drawer inside him until he met Jiho and he spit it all out because Jiho always understood.

It was no different that day.

The girl with their order interrupted him with their beers, Chanyeol took a deep breath and a sip of beer.

He hadn’t mentioned Baekhyun’s name.

“There won’t be a second round today. You’re insane and we’re going to Jongdeok hyung’s to listen to your song. You don’t have practice today, do you?” Jiho asked and munched on a piece of chicken, ripping the skin at the bone.

Chanyeol nibbled on his own drumstick, talked around it. “No practice. I told you, Sehun’s flooded room and all. I don’t know what’s wrong with it, so you’ll have to be merciless,” Chanyeol said with a shy grin.

“When have I not been merciless?” _Always_ , Chanyeol almost replied.

He even opened his mouth to talk with half a smile, but his voice got stuck at the bottom of his throat as he glanced out the window distractedly and a glimpse of red caught his attention— he looked out of instinct, like he’d done so many other times on campus. He’d been dejected so many times already that he didn’t give too much importance to it when he did, but then he couldn’t take his eyes away.

“What?” Jiho questioned, following Chanyeol’s gaze until it focused on that same red glimpse. “Well, shit.” Jiho said with no care in the world. He took one more sip of beer and started to bite around another piece of chicken— Chanyeol was still frozen.

The glimpse of red was Baekhyun’s scarf— the scarf Chanyeol hadn’t seen in months and had so desperately looked for, on campus. Baekhyun was wearing it around his neck and his nose was buried into it, as he was obviously smiling. It was bright enough for Chanyeol to see his eyes glinting like they usually did when he was laughing. He was walking on the other side of the road, like he had all the time in the world.

There was a guy next to him, with a hand around Baekhyun’s lower back, guiding him. The man looked very anonymous. He could’ve been anyone else, dark hair and a pair of glasses— the model that was in trend at the time. Chanyeol couldn’t guess his age, he could’ve been older than both him and Baekhyun or the same age— he did look older than Baekhyun, though and he was _talking_ animatedly, with ample gestures.

In any other case Chanyeol would’ve kept looking, he would’ve probably attempted to catch Baekhyun’s attention to wave at him; any of those things that any normal person would do in a similar situation.

However the man slid his hand up, almost caressing Baekhyun’s back as they stopped to the entrance of a building. Then he reached for Baekhyun’s hand and Baekhyun took it without even looking, just following the guy in. The fact that the building looked like some kind of sketchy motel was irrelevant at that point.

Chanyeol felt a knot form in his stomach and he couldn’t give it a rational explanation other than that he didn’t like what he’d just seen. It made him sick.

_What had he even seen?_

“And here I thought those people had the decency to hide it, in our country,” Jiho commented with no particular emotion in his voice. “It’s a free world, but I mean, like that...with no shame at all…”

Jiho’s words were like a slap at Chanyeol’s face. His eyes darted to the guitarist and the knot, that something gnawing at his stomach was suddenly unbearable. Even looking at the chicken made him want to gag. “What, don’t you go to motels with your girls?”

Jiho was taken aback, he looked down for a moment. “That’s different,” he muttered. “That’s normal.”

“That’s shameless too,” Chanyeol clipped back, at that point plainly staring at Jiho.

Jiho returned the look, then flapped his hand away as if whatever they were discussing had no importance. “People already talk about that guy _like that_ a lot. There has been that kind of rumor about him for ages now. That’s why it’s shameless. He should know better but there he is. I wonder what the owner of the motel thought.”

Chanyeol bit hard on the inside of his cheek, as the scene kept replaying behind his eyelids every single time he blinked. Baekhyun had walked into a motel with a guy; Baekhyun was holding hands with a guy. Baekhyun probably liked men.

Chanyeol felt overwhelmed. He wasn’t able of processing an opinion about what he’d just seen. What he knew was that there was venom and a good amount of bigotry in Jiho’s voice and it was Baekhyun he was talking about— Chanyeol didn’t like it.

“The owner probably thought some more disgusting shit, just like the one you’re giving me now,” Chanyeol said, trying to keep it neutral. “Do you know him? The guy with the red scarf.”

Jiho hesitated before replying, and he even chortled before doing it.

“Who doesn’t? Byun Baekhyun is quite popular at school and with sunbaes. I wonder if it’s because of… _that_ ,” and he wiggled his eyebrows hinting at the motel. “Do _you_ know him?”

Chanyeol smiled, but it was a bitter kind of smile. “It’s him I was talking about. It’s _his_ song.” Jiho averted his gaze. Chanyeol’s _best friend_ couldn’t look him in the eyes. “Byun Baekhyun is the guy I want in my band and you just said he’s not normal because...what, Jiho? Are you afraid you’re catching it too? The homo disease?” Chanyeol snarled at Jiho’s face, irritated, angry.

He grabbed his bag and stood up. He took one last long sip of beer and he was ready to go.

Jiho snorted, before Chanyeol could leave. “Don’t tell me you’re _like that_ too, ParkChan.”

“Don’t talk to me. Don’t bother coming to Jongdeok’s. Don’t even get close to me or the band.” Chanyeol looked back at Jiho one last time, before leaving the restaurant. “I don’t know who you are anymore,” he muttered.

Jiho still couldn’t meet his eyes.

  


.

 

Jiho didn’t get the chance to listen to the song in the end and Chanyeol didn’t bother looking for him after what had happened in the chicken restaurant. He did start working on the song at Jongdeok’s, which made it easier because Jongdeok had a good ear and Yoo Shiah was in the back of the pub sometimes, and she would help too.

In reality he wasn’t getting anywhere. _You just come here for the beer_ Jongdeok told him every single time Chanyeol left and the song hadn’t changed one bit. Chanyeol wasn’t there for the beer, also because Jongdeok’s drinks were much better than beer, but he was badly stuck, worse than he’d been before meeting Jiho. If then   _something was missing_ , now Chanyeol couldn’t make sense of what he’d written in the first place.

He couldn’t concentrate. Baekhyun— no, that man’s hand on Baekhyun’s lower back and the way Baekhyun had smiled at him, those two images in particular kept distracting him, replaying in his mind and before he knew he was staring at nothing.

Chanyeol had never considered the possibility of men liking other men. That wasn’t exactly the kind of conversation he would have with his family, especially with Chanyeol’s father, who wasn’t the most open minded. Seeing Baekhyun with that guy, however, had been at the same time overwhelming, nerve wracking and extremely eye opening. _So there’s this possibility too_ , Chanyeol had found himself thinking.

It also forced him to go through his times with Baekhyun again, making him reconsider every glance. Once he’d done that, once he’d realized he’d said things that could be misinterpreted he…didn’t know where to go from there.

It was a dead end.

Once, he’d even grazed the possibility that the guy he’d seen could be Baekhyun’s boyfriend after all, and he’d immediately chased the thought away because it made him nervous to think about it.

In the end he had no song, no best friend and no rehearsals until the week after— Kyungsoo and Sehun were still busy with their stuff. He was left alone with his his mind most of the time. Well, alone when he wasn’t at school or Jongdeok’s.

 _I’m really curious to meet the guy who created the song in the first place_ Jongdeok had commented once, after Chanyeol had played a cassette with the recorded piano version of what he had so far. _I mean, you said you only reproduced what he sang, so he must be pretty good_ . Chanyeol hadn’t know what to comment to that, he’d just smiled vaguely. _You will_ , he’d replied.  


Chanyeol was thinking of Baekhyun’s song that day in the Chemistry Club’s room, his face hidden in his folded arms on the desk— the sun was warm on his back and the cherry blossoms would be blooming soon. He drifted off quite soon at the sound of Himchan and Yoona arguing in the background about some experiment they’d done weeks earlier and its results.

_Yo ParkChan-ah, wake up, huh?_

Himchan had tried to shake him awake, multiple times, but Chanyeol was having an odd, disturbing dream about Baekhyun and that red scarf of his and he only heard Himchan’s voice as an echo, or a whisper inside the mess of his nightmare. Yoona must’ve tried too, because Chanyeol felt someone touching him lightly on the shoulder, and that had been very different from Himchan’s careless tugs.

They were going for coffee or something, but Chanyeol was chasing Baekhyun and his red scarf in his dream. He was running after him one moment, another Baekhyun was sitting on the stairs of that motel and Chanyeol couldn’t see his face but he was almost sure he was crying. In the dream he was blocked behind that restaurant’s window and couldn’t get out.

He knew he was shaking in his sleep, because he was in his dream, and he just wanted to wake up already. Baekhyun finally looked at him in the dream, and Chanyeol felt something blowing into his ear.

More like _someone_ blowing lightly into his ear. “Yeol-ah,” Baekhyun said, but this time it wasn’t in the dream.

It was all it took to pull Chanyeol out of the nightmare— Baekhyun blowing wind into his ear and calling his name. _Chanyeol must’ve been weird as fuck_

He blinked once, twice and turned his head to the other side to be met with Baekhyun’s eyes. He was close, so incredibly close that Chanyeol could count the moles on his face. He was crouching at one side of the desk, his forearms on the flat surface of it. He grinned and it was like everything about him was smiling.

“Your face is swollen,” was the first thing Chanyeol said slowly, still a little drowsy.

Baekhyun’s smile transitioned into a slight pout. “I had ramen yesterday.”

“What about your specs?” Chanyeol asked, still splayed on the desk— Baekhyun’s face looked bare without the frame of his glasses.

“I’m wearing lenses today,” Baekhyun murmured back.

 _You could drop a bomb next to him and he wouldn’t wake up, but Byun Baekhyun blows into his ear a little and he lives_ Himchan complained in the background. Chanyeol expected Yoona to throw some snarky remark at him, but she just hummed back in vague agreement.

Chanyeol had no intention to overthink it, he was too sleepy for that. “Why did you come here?” He asked, while Baekhyun rested his cheek on his own forearm.

“I’m hungry. Let’s get lunch together?”

Chanyeol stretched and yawned as Baekhyun stood up and closed his fingers around the fabric of Chanyeol’s jacket. Chanyeol only eyed it distractedly and the thought _danger_ pinged in his mind. He was quick to push it away. “Yeah, let’s,” he replied.


	7. Track 06

**Track 06**

 

Chanyeol tried hard to find something that would make Baekhyun different from the Baekhyun he’d met just a few days earlier. He tried, he really did. He didn’t know what he was expecting. A trace of the kisses he’d most likely exchanged with that man, or any visible sign that would hint at his preference for men over women. Whatever it was, he couldn’t find it. Baekhyun was exactly the same, from the obnoxious laughter to the soft wilderness of his personality. That for some reason put Chanyeol at ease, contrary to what he had expected.

He kept eyeing Baekhyun furtively as they walked side by side in the corridors of the building. When Baekhyun suddenly jutted his head back a little just to smile at him, he realized that the reason why Baekhyun wasn’t different, was that he had been like that from the beginning and that was maybe part of the reason why Chanyeol found him so interesting. He blended so well, and yet Baekhyun was different.

“Are you gonna dig holes in my face only until we get to the stairs or will you keep doing it there too?” Baekhyun asked suddenly, looking straight ahead.

It made Chanyeol flustered for a moment. He swallowed dry, then cleared his voice. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he responded flatly, though feeling that his face was warmer than a minute earlier.

“Whatever you say,” Baekhyun murmured back nonchalantly and walked a bit faster. “I brought lunch,” he added.

Chanyeol raised an eyebrow, made one single longer step to catch up with Baekhyun, and another one to be just a little ahead of him. “You brought lunch? No cafeteria?”

“Hyung sent me a lot of food and it’ll go bad if I don’t eat it all,” Baekhyun explained with a shrug. “It’s not poisoned, I swear.”

 _Hyung_ , he’d said. Chanyeol hesitated on the word for a moment, recalling the scene of a couple of weeks earlier, when they’d met that weird guy and Baekhyun had suddenly panicked. The guy had talked about a hyung too.

“The same guy who gave you the guitar?” He asked casually. He didn’t even know why he felt so compelled to ask; he only knew he wanted to know.

Baekhyun stopped suddenly and Chanyeol could’ve sworn he’d gone paler than he was a moment before. He laughed a nervous laugh, not meeting Chanyeol’s eyes until that laugh had turned into a strangely empty smile— it looked more like a grimace to Chanyeol. “No, I was talking about my real brother,” he responded and started walking again, almost immediately.

 _Here’s how you screw up_ Chanyeol thought to himself.

“Ah,” was all he could muster the courage to say. He looked at Baekhyun nervously, then to the classroom doors, then at Baekhyun’s back. “You should eat it then, he sent it to you...I don’t want to steal your food...I mean…”

He stuttered, realized the mess he’d just put himself into. _It’s hard_ , he thought to himself when Baekhyun turned around with a confused and slightly pissed expression— that forced smile from a few seconds earlier completely gone.

“Do I ask Oh Sehun to eat them with me then?” He hinted behind himself with his thumb.

That wasn’t what Chanyeol had meant at all, but the words seemed not to come out in the way he wanted them to. He opened his mouth, closed it. He shook his head because he didn’t know what else to do. “I didn’t mean it like that,” he managed in the end.

“Then I don’t see what’s the problem. I couldn’t eat them on my own anyway, it’s too much food,” he giggled playfully at the end of the sentence but the laughter sort of died inside his throat when Chanyeol just wouldn’t laugh with him.

“I swear to God I’m asking Oh Sehun, next time.”

He sighed, brought one hand to Chanyeol’s shoulder and patted it once, twice.

That scene at the motel, that guy’s hand on Baekhyun’s back flashed inside of Chanyeol’s head, it distorted and zoomed in. He’d shied away from Baekhyun’s hand before he could even realize what he’d done and Baekhyun was eyeing him askance.

He didn’t even know why he’d done it, why he’d avoided Baekhyun’s touch. He didn’t find Baekhyun not normal or disgusting, so that couldn’t be the reason. But what would other people think? Did people know about Baekhyun? What would _they_ think instead?

Suddenly Yoona and Himchan’s perplexed gazes acquired a completely different meaning. They felt heavier, intrusive. He shook his head.

“Sorry,” Chanyeol muttered. It was his turn to spit out a forced laugh that didn’t seem to be convincing Baekhyun at all.

“Is there something wrong? Did I do something?”

Chanyeol’s eyes darted to Baekhyun’s immediately. “No, no it’s just…” He lost track of his words there. “It’s just...I’m a bit under the weather today.” He brought one hand to the back of his neck and hooked it there, smiling embarrassedly.

Chanyeol only saw it with the corner of his eyes, but Baekhyun was frowning behind him.

 

They got to the stairs in almost complete silence aside from vague comments about the weather. “Why is it still so cold?” Baekhyun asked to no one in particular as they sat on the last steps.

Chanyeol looked at him a little longer— he was wearing a shirt that was way too thin for the crazy spring weather, a pair of jeans. No wonder he was cold. “What about your sweaters?”

“I thought it would be warmer today,” he replied, his lips curving down slightly. “The news said it would be. They’re never right anyway, but…”

“And today you thought they would be?” Chanyeol asked with a raised eyebrow and a voice that was a bit more skeptical than he would’ve liked.

“Mmh…” Baekhyun replied coyly. “I guess…Eheh”

Chanyeol almost reached for the hem of his own hoodie— he wasn’t that cold anyway and that was something he would’ve done without even thinking about it if it was Sehun or Kyungsoo. And he would have, even if it was Baekhyun. It had no meaning to him but maybe it had for Baekhyun. He hesitated, stole a glance and Baekhyun intercepted it.

“It’s fine,” Baekhyun commented, opening his backpack. “The soup should be still warm and I’m a strong man, don’t you worry.”

Chanyeol should’ve felt relief and yet he almost wanted to insist and shove the sweater on Baekhyun. “You were the one saying it was cold, nobody’s worried here.”

Baekhyun snorted, looking down. Chanyeol felt strangely teased.

Baekhyun took a couple of bowls wrapped in clear plastic out of his backpack and put them on the two notebooks Chanyeol had already laid on the floor.  He’d had brought some kimchi and quail eggs in a separate small bowl, eggroll and sausages, two bowls of rice and a thermos container with soup in it.

“My mom’s kimchi is the best,” Baekhyun bragged as he passed chopsticks and a spoon to Chanyeol.

“I don’t know how my mom would take that,” he murmured back. “I’ll enjoy the food,” he added and he slowly raised his eyes to Baekhyun, waiting for him to start eating first. Only after Baekhyun had taken a spoonful of rice, Chanyeol sipped at his soup.

“I was thinking,” Chanyeol started. Baekhyun looked at him with his mouth still full. “Now that you’ve joined the band, you’ll have to play at some point.”

Baekhyun nodded, two small commas between his eyebrows as he swallowed a lump of rice. “I guess yeah. Though…Are you even sure you really want me in the band?”

“Was I not clear enough, back then, when I asked you?” Chanyeol recalled his forehead against Baekhyun for a brief instant and he felt like a hole had just cracked in his stomach. He breathed in and took a much bigger spoon of rice, then stuffed his mouth with an egg roll too.

“You’ll choke like that,” Baekhyun commented as he tossed his water bottle onto Chanyeol’s lap. “And yes, you were clear enough but...I can’t really play well yet.” Baekhyun looked down at his fingers for a moment and Chanyeol followed his gaze.

His fingertips were still peeling off but at least he’d stopped wearing bandaids. “I know,” Chanyeol replied, his voice low. “Which is why I’m hoping you can learn a couple of the covers, at least a few easy parts. You can do the singing with me, if you want. And...Oh?”

“What?”

Chanyeol put the spoon down and reached for Baekhyun’s right hand in an almost instinctive gesture. “You cut your fingernails for picking.” They were cut slightly diagonal, but still quite short. _His hands are pretty_ , Chanyeol thought.

He looked up. Baekhyun was searching for his eyes and when he met them, Chanyeol just let go of his hand. “Sorry.” He said. “Did you file them?”

Baekhyun shook his head in a mute _it’s fine_ , though Chanyeol could see a vague hue of confusion into his gaze. “A sunbae at the club did it. It turned out well, right? I still can’t do it myself and I’m afraid to screw it up so I keep asking him.”

Chanyeol took a leaf of kimchi and then a good scoop of his rice. His eyes lingered a little longer on Baekhyun’s hands and noticed the little round scar he’d caused a couple of months earlier, with his cigarette. It hadn’t faded, probably would never fade. He wanted to say something about it, maybe apologize again. “Sehun can file them, if you don’t want to bother your sunbae,” he said instead.

“Ah.” Baekhyun looked a little taken aback. “Well, yeah thanks. I didn’t know he could.”

Chanyeol hummed back, then took a sip from the water bottle Baekhyun had tossed at him.

He could file them too, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to, at this point.

The corridor was deserted, since most of the students ate at the school cafeteria or in small restaurants outside the campus. The building itself had been eerily quiet when they’d walked to the stairs— despite the cloudy weather it seemed like nobody had chosen to stay inside the Chemistry Building.

Chanyeol shivered a little, when a gust of wind managed to sneak in the usually warm corner of the corridor.

“Chanyeol-ah I will try with the covers,” Baekhyun added quietly, after a few moments.

“You want to?”

“I want to. And I’ll sing, if you want me to.” He smiled and took the last spoonful of rice from his bowl. “I’m saving some money to buy some...accessories for the guitar. I don’t need them for now, but they’re quite expensive anyway, so I have time.”

“Sound effects? They’re expensive. We have a couple at The Corner, you could try those if you feel like it,” Chanyeol shared with a lift of his shoulders.

“I...think I’ll do that, yeah.”

“I won’t go easy on you. And neither will Kyungsoo. We can’t afford to spoil you, Byun Baekhyun,” he warned, and for a moment he thought he sounded so very cool and serious, but Baekhyun just dragged his eyes to him dubiously.

“As if. You love to spoil me anyway,” he replied.

It made Chanyeol’s flow of words stop. He didn’t know how to reply, he was stuck. “I...don’t? What the hell are you even talking about?” But Baekhyun had already won at this point, and Chanyeol shouldn’t have felt so upset and stirred up at the same time.

“Ah, also…” Chanyeol cleared his voice once more, frowning deeply as if to regain some composure. He purposely avoided Baekhyun’s gaze at that point and something in him was screaming that sharing this piece of information was such a bad, _bad idea_.

 _What if he misunderstands?_ Baekhyun’s eyebrows went up in curiosity and Chanyeol swallowed a dry lump once again.

“I’m writing a song for you,” he spit out fast. He was looking at his feet, so he couldn’t really see Baekhyun’s face but the silence that followed his words didn’t make him feel better. It made it worse, actually.

“A song. For me.”

“Yes.”

Baekhyun snorted and Chanyeol’s head whiplashed in his direction. “And are you gonna serenade me with it?” Baekhyun teased.

Chanyeol felt his entire face go red and his heart pulse into his ears. “No, idiot,” he muttered but the damage was done. Baekhyun was laughing by himself as he tried not to choke on the last egg roll.

“Don’t laugh, I’m serious here.” He insisted, and he raised a hand to his forehead trying to cover his face. “I’m writing your song, the one you sang that one time, the one you said kept playing inside your head.”

“Huh?”

“That song,” Chanyeol repeated, halfway between very miffed and very embarrassed.

“Oh and…” A few different expressions showed on Baekhyun’s face, until he settled for a pleased one. “And you remembered it?”

Chanyeol huffed, looking down at his hands. He couldn’t get the song out of his head. “Yes, I remembered it. I tried to turn it into a decent piece for guitar, but I’m waiting for Kyungsoo’s help for the rest of the parts. I’m not really good at those.”

Baekhyun’s pleased expression gradually broke into a bright, happy smile. Chanyeol hadn’t seen Baekhyun smile like that many times, but every single time it pulled him deeper than he was already.

“I can’t wait to listen to it. Is it any good? Was it good?” He paused, squinted his eyes at Chanyeol. “You didn’t ruin it, did you?”

“I didn’t ruin it” _I hope_.

“I want to hear it. I have to make sure you haven’t slandered it,” Baekhyun continued, seriously. He started closing the bowls and the thermos container while he looked up at Chanyeol every now and then with his usual amused expression.

“Nevermind, I think I’ll throw the whole thing away,” he teased lightly.

Baekhyun gasped theatrically. “No way you’re gonna do that.”

“Listen how good it is, mh?” Chanyeol hummed lightly to the melody, adding some poor imitation of a guitar strumming every now and then. He stopped. “See? All of this, in the bin? Don’t you feel bad?”

He hummed some more and almost had a heart attack when Baekhyun hummed along with him. He grinned and kept going, as if he knew what effect he had on Chanyeol and how overwhelmed he felt.

“I’m good, huh?” Baekhyun asked, half braggingly.  

“Shut up.”

 _He knows_ , Chanyeol thought, and ignored how his heart drummed a little bit faster in his chest when he stole another furtive glance at Baekhyun as their voices harmonized.

 

.

 

Chanyeol was alone at The Corner, with one earbud in and his fingers plucking strings of his guitar following the melody of Baekhyun’s song. He was sitting on the stool in the middle of the room and the sound reverberated in the empty space. It sounded different now that Chanyeol had the chance to hear it with his guitar plugged in the amp; the voice of his guitar had much more character and even the song sounded a little better for obvious reasons.

Kyungsoo had paged fifteen minutes earlier saying he would be late, which had given Chanyeol enough time to practice the song a little— the version he had recorded on cassette was the one he would be giving to Kyungsoo anyway, but he wanted the drummer to hear a better version of it, a live one.

“Sorry, I had to stay a little longer because a sunbae asked for help for something,” Kyungsoo walked in a little later— a cigarette between between his fingers and a black hoodie with a print from some group Chanyeol had never heard of. Chanyeol stopped playing. “I had to print three hundred fifty copies of a paper, I don’t know..” Kyungsoo added after tossing his windbreaker to the ground.

He huffed as he crouched to put out the cigarette inside the usual empty beer can that him or Chanyeol usually left in a corner of the room and looked up with a crooked smile. “What’s up, huh? How’s the song coming out?”

Chanyeol groaned in response and just stretched his arms to the side. “I wish I knew. It sounds better than expected but, you know...I want your opinion.”

“It sounded good, now that I was coming down the stairs,” Kyungsoo admitted, closing his distance to Chanyeol with a few steps.

“Yeah that’s actually what I want you to hear. The version I have recorded is not played with my Strat, so I don’t know, it loses some of its purpose I believe,” he explained, but he offered an earbud anyway.

“Let’s see how the unplugged sounds,” Kyungsoo encouraged.

Chanyeol had borrowed his sister’s portable cassette player just in case. He took it out of his jeans jacket pocket, paused, then rewinded the cassette and pressed play.

The melody started to unravel slowly and Chanyeol could feel his heartbeat accelerate. He didn’t know if it was the music; the fact that the music kept reminding him of Baekhyun and Baekhyun’s voice; or if it was simply because he was nervous and Kyungsoo was definitely listening to the recording with the goal of finding its flaws.

Whatever it was, Chanyeol stared at Kyungsoo attentively as the music went on and the rhythm changed one minute or so into the song. “This part is sort of empty,” Chanyeol murmured as he followed the beat tapping his fingers on his knee.

“Because this is my cue,” Kyungsoo commented with a grin— the hand on Chanyeol’s shoulder started emulating what he would’ve drummed. “That’s why it’s empty.”

“Is it?” Chanyeol asked, a vein of amusement in his voice. “I don’t know I just...played accordingly to what Baekhyun sang and added something where it seemed lacking.”

Kyungsoo nodded and they kept listening in silence for the remaining couple of minutes, until the recording stopped. Chanyeol swallowed— he felt strangely anxious, though he had composed and recorded songs with Kyungsoo before.

“I’ll work on it with Oh Sehun. I can borrow the recording studio at school and see if I can play with something here and there, then I’ll let you listen to it and you’ll tell me if you like it.” Kyungsoo said, removing the earbud and giving it back to Chanyeol. “You’ll like it.”

Chanyeol snorted. Do Kyungsoo and his overflowing confidence plainly contrasting to those moments when people complimented him and he went all shy, flailing his hands left and right because he was embarrassed. “I know I’ll like it,” Chanyeol compromised in the end.

The spring air made The Corner a little warmer than it had been in the winter and though the humidity of the basement was unbearable some days, Chanyeol still enjoyed every single minute he spent down there.

“What does Jiho have to say about it?” Kyungsoo asked as he sat on one of the other chairs Sehun had somehow gotten for free and brought over during the weekend.

Chanyeol went rigid for a moment, his brows knitted together as he unslung the guitar and proceeded to put it on its stand, near the drum kit. He hummed a couple of times, avoiding Kyungsoo’s eyes on purpose. He didn’t want to sound too harsh or too angry, but Chanyeol was past the level of self control when rethinking of that evening with Jiho at the chicken place. “I don’t want to hear about that sonofabitch.”

Kyungsoo’s face, on the other side of the room, was hilarious. He raised his eyebrows askance, then simply shrugged carelessly. “And from this I get that you’ve fought. What happened, are you gonna tell?”

Chanyeol mumbled something more as he tried to find his own tobacco pouch for a quick cigarette. “He said something rude and I don’t like him anymore.”

“Are we in kindergarten? People talk things out, you know?” Kyungsoo prompted, crossing one of his legs and propping his elbow on his knee.

“It’s not something you talk about, it’s...I don’t want to be his friend anymore.”

 _He’s not so wrong_ , was what Yoora had said when Chanyeol had ranted to her after insulting Jiho for thirty long minutes. _Some things are better kept hidden_ , she’d said and being completely honest Chanyeol was afraid Kyungsoo was going to give him a similar response.

“I don’t know what he’s done,…” Kyungsoo seemed to calibrate Chanyeol’s reactions for a moment. “And I haven’t said anything, mind me. But he asked me about you. So I gathered something was wrong, but he wouldn’t tell me.”

“I bet he wouldn’t. He should be ashamed, the fucker. He was disgusting,” Chanyeol muttered to himself while rolling his cigarette. He lit it and took a drag of smoke, after glancing to the window to check if it was indeed open. “We saw Byun Baekhyun, he said something he shouldn’t have said.” Chanyeol wrapped up the info and waited, checking for any change in Kyungsoo’s expression.

Maybe he knew about Baekhyun as well, after all. If there was that kind of rumor about him, maybe even people around Chanyeol knew. For a moment he felt that same sensation of void inside his stomach once again. He dreaded Kyungsoo’s reply, he was terrified to know what he thought.

Kyungsoo didn’t seem to think anything about it, though. “I understand,” was all he said, looking at Chanyeol thoughtfully. “Just…” he pause when he heard the door upstairs open. “I know you care about Byun Baekhyun, but Woo Jiho has been your friend for years.”

They could hear Sehun and Baekhyun chattering as they walked down the stairs to the basement. Chanyeol looked to the door for a moment, then back to Kyungsoo.

He didn’t say anything.

“Think about it,” Kyungsoo concluded, just as Baekhyun and Sehun entered the room.

“Think about what?” Sehun asked immediately, carding his hand through his hair. “Hyung can I?

He hinted at Chanyeol’s cigarette and Chanyeol reached out for Sehun to take a drag without really thinking about it. He was more concentrated on eyeing Baekhyun still on the door, having a brief conversation with Kyungsoo about Sehun’s landlord.

Kyungsoo nodded in understanding and just glanced at Sehun smoking as the guitarist went to unfold one of the chairs and sit on it. He yawned.

Baekhyun had brought his guitar today and he was wearing a blue checked shirt that didn’t look like it was his on a white t-shirt and a pair of black sweatpants. He was wearing his glasses today— Chanyeol found himself having a preference for when he did wear them.

Baekhyun met Chanyeol’s gaze after a quick panoramic of the room. He smiled faintly.

“Hi,” he said.

Chanyeol raised his hand in a mute _hello_ but he smiled back.

“I’ve learned two of the covers you gave me last week,” Baekhyun shared as he put down his guitar.

He didn’t sound too confident about the idea of playing, or at least that’s what Chanyeol could feel through his voice. That subtle shyness in it added to the already present cuteness in Baekhyun’s personality. And although that cuteness somewhat clashed with his confidence and charm, overall _it made sense_ if seen from afar.

“You’ve learned them already?” Kyungsoo questioned before Chanyeol could answer. Baekhyun sort of ignored him; he hummed a yes but kept walking towards Chanyeol until he was close enough for Chanyeol to want to step back.

“Do you have my song in there?” Baekhyun asked, as he reached for one of the earbuds hanging out of Chanyeol’s pocket.

“Ah, uhm-”

“He does,” Kyungsoo said a little louder from where he was standing next to Sehun. It made Baekhyun chortle, to see Chanyeol’s face going from surprised to completely pissed.

“Ya, Do Kyungsoo...I didn’t want him to hear it before you fixed it a little. I told you, it’s-”

“It’s fine Chanyeol, let him listen to it. It’s good enough,” Kyungsoo cut in with a shrug. He rested his arm on Sehun’s shoulder and Sehun murmured something to him that Chanyeol didn’t get because Baekhyun spoke over it.

“Yeah Chanyeol, let him listen to it,” Baekhyun repeated almost offended. He was ridiculous and Chanyeol wanted to stay serious and pissed but he had to hang his head low to hide an amused grin as he offered the earbud to Baekhyun.

If he’d been nervous with Kyungsoo, he was even more nervous about Baekhyun’s reaction. Baekhyun stepped closer and put his earbud in while Chanyeol did the same.

Baekhyun listened in silence, focused on some random spot on the floor. Chanyeol was dying to get any feedback but Baekhyun’s face was plain canvas. Chanyeol knew the song by heart, he knew every single detail of the recording, where his rhythm was a bit off and where the song didn’t sound right to him, so he was especially careful to catch any hint of Baekhyun’s eventual disappointment but _nothing_. He let out nothing.

Chanyeol almost gasped like an idiot and went completely red, when the recording finished and Baekhyun reached to take Chanyeol’s earbud out and put it into his own ear. “Can I listen to it again?” he asked.

Chanyeol nodded, at a loss of words. He glanced at Sehun and Kyungsoo worriedly, then hurried to give Baekhyun the whole portable cassette player. He expected him to listen to it close to him, but Baekhyun walked to a corner of the room dragging one of the chairs behind him and he hunched forward covering his ears with both hands.

 _What the hell?_ Chanyeol thought as he turned around to alarmingly look at Kyungsoo, hoping to get some support, but Kyungsoo was just smiling at him with this unreadable expression. Sehun was looking at Baekhyun instead.

The cassette player button clicked, signaling the recording was over and even then the boy kept quiet until Chanyeol couldn’t handle it anymore and strode towards him with a couple of long steps.

“So?” He asked, trying to sound smooth and resulting to sound angry instead.

Baekhyun didn’t seem bothered, however. He slowly raised his head and his lips curved up in a smile meeting Chanyeol’s gaze. Chanyeol felt his mouth go dry all of a sudden as he stepped back. “So…?” He tried again, avoiding Baekhyun’s gaze this time, one hand on his nape and the points of his ears red.

“It’s her, it’s my song,” Baekhyun said, then his carefree smile transitioned into a bit of a smug grin. “I never thought you’d manage to make it sound this cool but...It is, it’s her.”

Chanyeol breathed out in relief, then glared at Baekhyun because he felt like it was the right thing to do. “And there you were, doubting me,” he said, just a little bitter about it.

Baekhyun chuckled to himself and wrapped the earbuds around the cassette player with care. “Teasing you, Park Chanyeol, that’s what I was doing,” he informed. Chanyeol didn’t know what to say, once again. “Can I try playing with you guys from today? I’ve practiced a lot.”

Sehun stood up and started to prepare his own instrument as Kyungsoo walked to the drumkit. “Let’s warm up a little first, what do you say Yeol?” Kyungsoo asked.

“I’ll prepare my stuff,” Chanyeol responded nodding.

“I thought you were the band leader,” Baekhyun whispered to Chanyeol as they plugged in their guitars into the amps and Baekhyun started to strum disasters of chords that made no sense whatsoever.

“I thought you said you’d practiced,” Chanyeol clipped back.

It was almost satisfying to see Baekhyun’s cheeks go a little red at the comment.

 

They played the covers Baekhyun had prepared only thirty minutes later and Baekhyun sang through both of them like a crazy man. His voice even cracked a couple of times and his laughter blended with the music, giving it a completely different character— it almost sounded like it was scripted that Baekhyun would laugh in that exact point. It hyped them all. That same sensation, that beat Chanyeol had always thought was his reason to do music had a new meaning now that Baekhyun’s voice accompanied it.

When they wrapped up the ending of Knocking on Heaven’s Door Baekhyun had made a mess of the small part Chanyeol had given him to learn but had rocked the vocals and he was breathless and panting as if he’d ran a marathon.

He met Chanyeol’s eyes and he grinned, seeing that they were both a little sweaty and a little gross.

“Wanna sing some more?” Chanyeol said, and it almost sounded like a challenge.

Baekhyun huffed, then laughed a stupid _eheh_. “I think I might be drunk. I wanna sing until tomorrow.”

 

.

 

Sehun’s rooftop room was boiling hot in the summer and freezing cold in the winter, especially this year since the heater had started acting all crazy until it had given up on Sehun completely— poor guy had taken cold showers more often than not for the whole year and had spent half of winter vacation trying to recover from the flu. Aside all of this, Sehun’s room was the perfect temperature in the spring, instead. It lacked in furniture— it literally had a kitchen, a fridge, a mattress and a small wardrobe, Sehun studied sitting on the floor, but it was still good enough for them to chill or have a drink, sitting outside.

Which is why they’d all agree to let Chanyeol and Sehun play a short match of basketball in the school court after class and then crash at Sehun’s for some ramen and some alcohol. However in the end things had gone a little differently since Baekhyun had joined the game— he had insisted he _really_ didn’t know how to play.

Bullshit, if you asked Chanyeol.

So there they were, all sitting on the floor around Sehun’s low dining table.

Chanyeol was fairly sure there was only so much food someone could fit in their stomach without it bursting and Byun Baekhyun had definitely surpassed that quantity half a pot of ramen ago, and he was still slurping noodles loudly.

“Wah, he’s really no joke,” Kyungsoo commented shaking his head while Sehun brought in some bottles of soju and glasses.

Baekhyun was actively eating on his own directly from their second pot of ramen that all four of them had agreed to cook, but that only Baekhyun was still hungry enough to eat. Chanyeol was staring at him half in awe and half in horror as he blew away the steam that was making his glasses foggy.

“He eats like a pig, it’s strangely fascinating. Where do you think he puts the food?” Chanyeol questioned, glancing very quickly towards Kyungsoo.

“I’m hungry because of the match,” Baekhyun said with his cheeks still stuffed with food. He munched on the noodles with his mouth open with the least care in the world. “I need nutrition, I never move that much,” he explained gesturing with his chopsticks like an old man.

“I still can’t believe he was better than both of you, oh? I came to cheer for the idiots and the idiots are outplayed by Byun Baekhyun. I can’t believe it.” Kyungsoo opened the bottle of soju and started pouring the first round in the small glasses on the table.

“Don’t worry, they can’t believe it either,” Baekhyun whispered, teasing, and he proceeded to take in some more noodles. He swallowed, squinting his eyes once, then put the pot on the table with a long exhale”That was good. And to be honest even I can’t believe it. I have maybe played once or twice only, how can I be that good?”

“You can’t,” Chanyeol deadpanned, and he reached for one tissue only to stick it to Baekhyun’s lips— orangey from all the spicy ramen broth. “You shouldn’t be good at basketball, you’re like...short. No offense.”

“Fuck off, ” Baekhyun clipped back smoothly, unbothered. He rubbed his mouth aggressively with the tissue, looked at it for a moment then licked his angry red lips. “Ah- it’s spicy,” he said with a grimace and his eyebrows furrowed. “Please let’s all remember this as the day when Byun Baekhyun played better than Park Chanyeol and Oh Sehun _and_ was complimented by the rest of the players there. How do you explain that part?.” 

_Because he was keeping them all wrapped around his finger, like he always does_ Chanyeol thought to himself. “You were playing decently and they knew it was your first time, so they were nice to you,” he said with a sigh instead.

“Bullshit. I was awesome,” Baekhyun insisted, wiggling his brows at Chanyeol. “Admit it, Park Chanyeol.”

Chanyeol snorted, then took his glass from the table and gave Baekhyun his own. “What about them?” He hinted at Kyungsoo and Sehun— the bassist busy trying to find something in the fridge, the drummer judging the two guitarists from the other side of Sehun’s small, round table.

“They already admit I’m awesome, don’t you guys?”

“The most awesome,” Sehun replied, raising a hand with a thumb up as he was still crouching in front of the fridge. Kyungsoo just chortled, nodding in a very not convincing way.

“See?” Baekhyun looked back at Chanyeol and Chanyeol groaned in defeat, but didn’t admit a thing.

“Aren’t we gonna drink?” He asked. Kyungsoo was the only one who responded with a shrug.

“Oh Sehun, don’t you have those corn snacks? The round ones,” Baekhyun asked putting his glass of soju back on the table but still holding onto it. Kyungsoo just snorted again at a loss of words, Chanyeol’s eyes darted towards Baekhyun in surprise.

“You just had three packets of ramen on your own, and half of the first pot we made. What are you, a beast?”

Baekhyun threw his head back, laughing, resting half of his back on Sehun mattress behind him. Then he spread his leg on the floor until his foot touched Chanyeol’s shin and only then he dragged his gaze to meet Chanyeol’s.

“Nah, just your worst nightmare, ParkChan,” he said, vaguely _seductive_.

Chanyeol forgot how to swallow properly, too busy trying to control the flush to his neck and all the way up to his ear. He coughed a little, lowering his head and hiding with a small laughter the fact that he was very affected by whatever game Baekhyun was playing.

 _He doesn’t mean anything by that_ , he quickly convinced himself.

“Shit,” he said, looking up again. “I don’t even know what to reply to that.”

Baekhyun looked very pleased and very soft at the same time as he simply smiled faintly, before raising his eyes to Sehun.   
  
“Here, hyung. Are you sure, though? You aren’t gonna throw up or something are you?” Sehun asked, eyeing the soju bottles with a worried look to his face.

“It’s fine, he’s good with alcohol,” Kyungsoo said, finally taking his own glass between his fingers. With the other hand he patted the floor for Sehun to sit next to him, which Sehun did, but ended up with a leg half tangled with Chanyeol’s.

“Me?” Baekhyun asked, then shook his head with a nervous laugh. “Actually I have a very low tolerance. But I fall asleep right away usually, so you shouldn’t worry.”

Kyungsoo didn’t comment, but he seemed satisfied with Baekhyun’s reply. Chanyeol, on the other hand, kept giving him this very skeptical look, as they all raised their glass.

“Oh by the way, we got a live at Paradise Dust in three weeks, so let’s _jjan_ to that, shall we?” Kyungsoo said all of a sudden.

 _jjan!_ they shouted, and they clashed their glasses over the table.

“We have a gig?” Chanyeol asked after gobbling down the soju all in one go. He didn’t even care about how much the alcohol burned down his throat. “When did it happen? How?"

“Jongdeok called yesterday, he said some band canceled and asked if we were available. I said yes.”

Sehun proceeded to pour more soju. He poured into Chanyeol’s first, out of habit, then he realized the mistake since he was supposed to pour for Baekhyun first. “Sorry hyung, I pour for him first, usually.”

Baekhyun flapped his hand a couple of times, his attention on both Kyungsoo and Chanyeol. “Kim Jongdeok as in Kim Jongdae’s brother?”

Kyungsoo and Chanyeol shared a look for a moment, then flicked their shoulders shaking their heads. “We’ve never met a brother, so it could be. There’s only one Jongdeok working at Paradise Dust, so if this Jongdae’s brother works there, then it must be him,” Chanyeol commented.

He waited for Baekhyun to take a sip first from his glass, then took one too. Sehun wasn’t the only one who wasn’t used to drinking with Baekhyun there; and it wasn’t only about drinking habits, it was hard for Chanyeol to fully grasp the concept of Baekhyun being a whole half a year older than he was, with all that him being older implied.

Baekhyun looked lost in his thoughts for a moment, when Chanyeol stole another glance from the corner of his eyes. He wondered what he was thinking, staring at the clear liquid in his glass. “Do you know Jongdeok?” He asked lightly.

Baekhyun’s lips curved down a bit. “Sort of...but not really,” he denied, but it looked like there was more to it than Baekhyun was letting on. He swallowed the content of his glass in one shot and reached for the bottle, to pour some more for himself, then Kyungsoo.

“If we have a gig, does it mean I get to be on stage with you guys?” Baekhyun asked.

Sehun nodded immediately, Kyungsoo seemed to wait for Chanyeol’s _ok_ to nod as well. “Only if you feel confident enough to. Although...it’ll be a shame if you didn’t. Chanyeol worked hard for that song.”

 _Sing for me_ Chanyeol had said. Thinking about it now, with the alcohol slowly getting into his system, he’d sounded like he was begging. Maybe he’d been begging, after all.

Baekhyun glanced at Chanyeol, quick and almost imperceptible. “Do you want me to sing that one?”

Chanyeol let out a puff of breath, sarcastic. “Why do you think I would write your song if not for you to sing it?”

Baekhyun lowered his gaze, bit the inside of his cheek. “Heh, I thought you’d sing it, actually.” He said it so honestly that Chanyeol his heart skip a beat. He swallowed and poured himself some more soju, avoiding Baekhyun’s eyes on purpose.

“Hyung could sing it, yeah,” Sehun admitted, catching Baekhyun’s attention. “But it would make more sense if you sang it. Or if you sang it with him, Kyungsoo hyung and I don’t mind. We don’t have lyrics yet anyway.”

“Yes, exactly. The lyrics, who’s gonna write them?” Kyungsoo asked, passing another glass of soju to Sehun and pouring some more for himself— the first bottle was almost empty and Sehun had prepared four at the center of the table.

“Chanyeol Hyung?” Sehun called.

All of the attention went to Chanyeol all of a sudden. It made him hesitant and feel extremely self conscious. Jiho had been the one who wrote the lyrics for the very few songs they had composed together. When it was just Chanyeol composing, he would just go for instrumentals; writing a song and conveying feelings through the melody was already exposing enough. Pouring his heart into the lyrics would made him feel naked.

“I...I don’t know,” he stuttered.

Baekhyun hummed, pouring some soju for him after opening the second bottle. He slid the glass on the table towards Chanyeol, almost encouraging him to drink.

“What if Baekhyun hyung writes them instead?” Sehun prompted, pushing his fringe away from his eyes.

Baekhyun bursted out laughing in response, much louder than he would have usually and Chanyeol half blamed the alcohol, half the fact that Baekhyun had looked very nervous because of Sehun’s words. “Impossible,” he said around that laugh.

Kyungsoo raised his shoulders— Chanyeol noticed his hand rubbing Sehun’s knee distractedly. He almost spit a comment, something along the lines of _gross_ but then he remembered about Baekhyun in the room and opted to stay silent.

“Let’s think about it and we can decide later. We still have a bit of time,” he concluded. Baekhyun nodded.

 

The atmosphere got livelier after the third bottle: they ordered chicken, which was definitely the worst idea they could have for the night and Sehun had gone all the way to the convenience store and back to buy beers, even though that was an even worse idea, especially after drinking almost one bottle of soju each.

Chanyeol, somewhere in the back of his very hazy brain, knew that all of what was going on would have disastrous consequences. He knew, and yet he was the first one to yell _CHICKEN!_ when the delivery man arrived.

Baekhyun was the second, and he was already a little wobbly on his feet when he went to get the door. He giggled at the delivery man like a schoolgirl, told him he was handsome— the man looked at Baekhyun vaguely horrified, as Sehun and Kyungsoo laughed their asses of in the background.

Chanyeol cursed under his breath as he followed him. He had to bow at the man a couple of times, justify Baekhyun with excuses he couldn’t even recall and physically drag him back inside as the boy kept laughing and stumbling over the shoes at the entrance.

“He was like fifty, what were you thinking?!”

Baekhyun had shrugged with a smug grin on his face. “Dunno, eheh. You’ll be handsome when you’re fifty, ya’ know.”

Kyungsoo snorted and even repeated to Sehun what Baekhyun had just said. Chanyeol was completely rendered speechless at this point, but he knew his face was completely red and he couldn’t even deny it nor hide anywhere.

“Shut up,” he muttered, brooding and trying to hide how overwhelmed he was.

Baekhyun was still laughing this very stupid _eheh_ laugh as he sat on the floor and they opened both the beer and the chicken. Chanyeol glanced at Baekhyun, then the can of beer and for a moment he thought that the fizzing sound of the can opening was a bad, bad omen.

It was a can of beer each and Sehun had just stopped drinking at some point, leaning against Kyungsoo’s shoulder first, then slowly lying down on the floor until his head was on Kyungsoo’s thigh. Kyungsoo didn’t look drunk at all, as he petted Sehun’s hair looking at the chicken intensely.

If Baekhyun was _happy_ after a bottle of soju, mixing what was left of the soju with beer had had a certain effect on him. He was half lying down on one elbow, half on Sehun’s mattress and he kept blinking slowly, sleepy.

Chanyeol didn’t know what stage of drunk he was in, but his can of beer was empty and his head just hurt really bad.

It was a moment of relative peace, the chicken almost gone and all of them ready to wash a little and sleep, when Chanyeol saw Baekhyun frown next to him, and then actively try to get closer.

“What are you doing?” Chanyeol asked with a raised eyebrow. He was sitting against Sehun’s small wardrobe, next to the bare mattress on the floor. Baekhyun sat up on his knees and moved until he was almost facing Chanyeol. He didn’t reply, just looked behind him, to Sehun resting his head on Kyungsoo’s lap.

“Byun Baekhyun-ah, if you’re tired just use the mattress, mh?” Chanyeol tried gesturing Sehun’s makeshift bed. Baekhyun chortled and shook his head, and kept silent as he sat next to Chanyeol.

He was close, extremely close and Chanyeol could feel himself getting more and more restless as he felt Baekhyun’s warmth seep through his clothes.

 _He doesn’t mean anything by this_ , he kept insisting as Baekhyun laced his arm around Chanyeol’s and rested his head against his shoulder.

It wasn’t the first time he’d done that and Chanyeol had been perfectly ok with that, before. But now, now it was different. Now he couldn’t help but see Baekhyun in a different light, over analyze everything he did.

Baekhyun sighed and his breath tickled Chanyeol’s arm. The guitarist almost got goosebumps, as he went rigid and wriggled his arm away from Baekhyun’s grasp. “Don’t do that, what the hell?” He spit out, sounding almost traumatized.

He shied away as he tried to justify this nervousness with something that wasn’t _Baekhyun has this effect on me_ and he knew Kyungsoo and Sehun were staring. He was ridiculous. He didn’t even know what he was so scared of, but he knew he was just as red as he’d been when he was on the door.

“Sehun is doing it and Kyungsoo is just fine with it, though?” Baekhyun said, making it sound like a question. He looked upset, for just a second, then he made a breathy laugh, hugged his knees to his chest.

Chanyeol muttered something that didn’t make sense. “That’s different,” he managed, but he couldn’t possibly explain _why_ it was different.

“Park Chanyeol is cute sometimes, he’s just like a virgin,” Baekhyun said at that point unexpectedly.

Both Kyungsoo and Sehun stared at Baekhyun for a couple of silent, long seconds until Sehun bursted out laughing and Chanyeol pressed his lips in a line, groaning in frustration. “I can’t believe you just said that, Hyun-ah” he murmured.

“He is, though, if you think about it. Isn’t it, hyung?” Sehun teased as he managed to sit up a little, laughing. “He’s a bit clueless with girls too, you know,” he shared.

Chanyeol knew there was no point in stopping him at this point, and he sighed, hiding his face in his palm. “Please don’t start,” he begged as his head pulsed and he just wanted to lie down and sleep.

Baekhyun had no intention of letting this occasion go, though. Maybe he was too much of an asshole or maybe he was just drunk. “What do you mean clueless?” He asked.

It was Kyungsoo’s turn to chortle, eyeing Chanyeol for a brief moment. “I don’t know what he’s told you, but he’s usually not the one getting laid. Jiho is. Or was, when he was in the band. So Park Chanyeol getting the ladies was some sort of inner joke among us because it never happened.”

“He’s hopeless,” Sehun added.  
Chanyeol exhaled and closed his eyes, his head thumped against the wardrobe.

“There was this one time when a girl asked him to go get a coffee after a gig. Nobody gets coffee at two am, if you get what I mean. And do you know what he said?” Sehun started laughing before he even finished the story. Baekhyun shook his head.  
  
“No, what?”

“He said he didn’t like coffee.”

“I can’t believe it.”

“He really said it,” Kyungsoo confirmed.

Chanyeol kept hoping for a hole to open and swallow him whole. He cracked one eye open and Baekhyun was laughing _eheheh_ again. Maybe it was Chanyeol reading too much into it, but it looked like Baekhyun was faking his amusement.

“And the girl was like: Well, there was no coffee to begin with, anyway,” Sehun continued, and ended up looking at Chanyeol like he’d done the stupidest thing ever— which was the case, if you asked the majority of people involved in the event.

Baekhyun turned around to meet Chanyeol’s eyes too, and he was smiling, a bit drowsy. “And did you sleep with her?”

“I didn’t,” Chanyeol replied with a shrug.  

“That’s why the inner joke. He never does. Jiho Hyung gets the girls usually but sometimes Chanyeol hyung could get them too, if he wasn’t this dense. When’s the last time you had a girlfriend, hyung?” Sehun questioned, pointing his finger at Chanyeol.

When Chanyeol tried to give him a reply and failed, Sehun let his arm fall down with a sigh. “Hyung, you’re hopeless.”

“I don’t sleep with groupies,” Chanyeol deadpanned, as he stood up and the room danced in front of his eyes. “I’m gonna wash and then sleep, if you guys don’t mind,” he slurred a bit. “Or you can stay smelly and disgusting and sleep with all the groupies you want,” he added.

Kyungsoo tilted his head back, again with that skeptical expression. “The Housewives don’t have groupies, those are just girls who are trying to hook you up.”

“And you crash their dreams, hyung. And your balls too,” Sehun insisted, then sighed and flopped his head on Kyungsoo’s shoulder. Kyungsoo allowed him as usual.

“Yeah, whatever,” Chanyeol replied with no enthusiasm. When he looked back Baekhyun was still on the same spot, in the same position with his legs to his chest and he was smiling this drunk but vaguely sad smile Chanyeol couldn’t really read.

 

They slept on the heated floors with some blankets and a few cushions that were the most hard and uncomfortable thing Chanyeol had ever slept on, but he couldn’t complain because it was either that or his head on the floor.

Sehun had gotten the mattress of course, since it was his house and maybe Kyungsoo thought nobody would notice, but he’d sneaked onto the mattress too, later during the night.

Chanyeol had woken up because Baekhyun was whining and Chanyeol was too nauseous to fully fall asleep.

He moved a little closer, just to make sure Baekhyun wasn’t dying or anything— and thankfully he wasn’t, but the guitarist took his chance to stare at him in the almost complete darkness of the room. He allowed himself a minute or so, just a minute.

He recalled the comment about him being a virgin and Baekhyun openly and drunkenly flirting with the delivery man. Baekhyun was gay, and that seemed to be confirmed by now. Did he have someone he liked? Was the guy at the motel his lover? Telling Chanyeol he was a virgin...did that mean Baekhyun wasn’t?

 _He sleeps with guys, Park Chanyeol_ , he told himself.

Baekhyun made some more noise and that had Sehun groan in annoyance in his sleep.

 _Just a minute_ , Chanyeol repeated in his mind as he lay down on the floor, dragging his blanket and cushion closer to Baekhyun but still far enough for it not to be _too much_.

When he woke up again it must’ve been very early, the first lights of dawn or close to that. His head hurt badly and he needed to pee but the room was too freezing and he was too warm to even think about getting up. He could hold it, he hoped.

He realized belatedly that his head was snuck between Baekhyun’s shoulder and his cheek, that he had one arm draped on Baekhyun’s torso and that the boy’s breath was fanning on his face. It was Chanyeol who must’ve rolled closer in his sleep, Baekhyun wasn’t even clinging onto him. He’d fallen asleep with his glasses on, so Chanyeol carefully took them off and left them on the floor, not too far for Baekhyun to reach.

Chanyeol thought for a moment that he probably had to move, that strangely enough his heart wasn’t racing and his face wasn’t crazy red.

 _He could stay a little more_ , just _a little_.

Nobody would know anyway.

 

.

 

Chanyeol had woken up to Sehun’s foot nudging his shoulder the day after; to a not impressed _wake up, hyung_ and the morning light coming in from the open door blinding him. He almost reached for Baekhyun unconsciously, only to realize that he was the last to wake up and that Baekhyun had left hours earlier— he had to meet someone, he’d told the others.

 

Chanyeol hadn’t been drunk enough the night before to forget about Baekhyun’s teasing, nor how he’d wanted to get closer to him in the night. He kept thinking about it. The memory of Baekhyun’s stupid laugh coming back when he least expected it didn’t help, nor did the fact that he worried he’d crossed some invisible line. At first he’d worried that Baekhyun would treat him differently, and after realizing that it wasn’t the case and Baekhyun was always the same, he was almost relieved.

It meant that nothing had changed and Chanyeol hadn’t done anything that could be misunderstood.

However Baekhyun clearly seeked for his attention, waiting for him outside of class and asking to practice together, have lunch together. Sometimes he sneaked in the club meetings and sat in a corner reading his own stuff, stealing glances furtively every now and then— Chanyeol felt Baekhyun’s eyes on him, those times, and they made him strangely giddy. There was a weird sort of pride he got from knowing that Byun Baekhyun was interested in him enough to do all of that, despite the voice at the back of his brain screaming that he should run.

He _wanted_ to run, to ignore Baekhyun just to be safe. Baekhyun liked guys, after all, and the fact that Chanyeol felt so charmed and so interested in him couldn’t be good. At the same time he wanted to get closer, he wanted Baekhyun to laugh stupidly at him as much at his heart’s content.

There was something endearing and repelling at the same time, in the idea that Baekhyun could like him. Only part of Chanyeol thought that it was cruel to think so.

  


He was dozing off on a chemistry book while pretending to study for the next report he had to submit— sitting at the very last desk in the library, behind all the shelves. The sun burned his back and he thought for a moment that his nape would get too tanned as it did every year. It was a fleeting thought.

He looked down at the pages of the book, read some words in his head without grasping any concept. He just wanted school to be over, so he could prepare for their gig, spend all the time at The Corner, eat grilled meat with Kyungsoo, Sehun and Baekhyun, maybe get drunk again.

“Park Chanyeol?” He heard someone whisper and he looked up to recognize Yoona waving her hand at him.

“Ah, Noona,” he replied with a smile. He waved back.

She left her bag and her books on the chair in front of Chanyeol’s, then bent over to murmur into his ear. “Wanna get a bit of fresh air?”

Chanyeol nodded and just followed her in silence among the shelves, until she carefully opened one of the emergency exit doors and gestured for Chanyeol to go out first. They sat down. Yoona was holding a can of sikhye and looking down, to the street under them.

“How have you been doing?” She asked first, suddenly darting her gaze to him with a polite smile.

Chanyeol raised his shoulders, leaning against the rail. “The usual, noona. School is almost over but it’s crazy and we’ve been preparing for this upcoming gig, with the guys. I’m still not sure what’ll come out of it.”

She giggled, before taking a sip of sikhye. “You’re always so nervous about everything, Yeol. Last time we talked was about Woo Jiho leaving the band and how you thought you guys would not play anymore. It’s been months and you’re still going strong, aren’t you?”

“Hmm, I don’t know,” Chanyeol replied, but he chortled too because what she said was true. “I guess I can’t do much about it. Must be my personality or something,” he admitted in defeat.

“Well, do something about it,” she encouraged patting his back vehemently a couple of times. “Huh? Relax. Go trekking, date someone.”

Chanyeol let out a breathy, long laugh after that. “And who would I date, noona? You?”

He thought she would be at least a little flustered about it, but she looked at him, impassible. “I’m taken, I’m afraid.” Chanyeol gasped, Yoona hit him again on the shoulder, covering her mouth while laughing. “What, did you think I’d be married to chemistry for the rest of my life?”

Chanyeol reasoned about it for a few seconds, then nodded. “Yeah, sort of.”

They stayed in silence, the spring breeze ruffled Yoona’s hair and it tickled Chanyeol’s nose. He held in a sneeze and closed his eyes, resting both of his elbows on the previous steps on the stairs and leaning back a little.

“Chanyeol-ah, you…” Yoona started, but her carefree tone of voice had changed to a more careful one. “You and Byun Baekhyun have really gotten close, lately.”

Hearing Baekhyun’s name had Chanyeol open his eyes instinctively and he searched for Yoona’s face. He nodded, once he’d focused on her. “Yeah...if it’s a problem that he comes to the club sometimes, I’ll tell him. It’s not really like I invited him, to be honest…” _he sort of invited himself_ , he thought.

Yoona shook her head with a gesture of her hand. “It’s not that, he can come whenever...Just...what’s your relationship with him, exactly?”

Chanyeol raised an eyebrow, confused. He wasn’t sure where Yoona was getting with her question, but his heart beat a little faster for no reason. He felt nervous all of a sudden, he stuttered. “He...recently he’s joined the band, and he’s learning how to play,” he said, knowing it didn’t give her a real reply.

“How close are you to him?” She tried again, almost aggressively. When Chanyeol stared at her, taken aback, she sighed. “Sorry, I...really don’t know how much I should tell you, and how much you know about him.”

She paused and Chanyeol swallowed thickly. “You know there’s that kind of rumor about him, don’t you? About Baekhyun being...gay, you know.”

“That’s none of my business,” he cut short. “Nor anyone else’s business and you know, noona.”

Yoona smiled sadly, then nodded in agreement. “What I meant to tell you is...I don’t know if he’s gotten so close to you because he likes you, or if it’s because he admires you but please, don’t stir him up too much, Yeol.”

She sounded so sincerely concerned that Chanyeol frowned, almost irritated. “What should that mean? I’m not doing anything,” he said without thinking, though for a moment he wondered if that wasn’t a lie after all.

“The man he was dating committed suicide two years ago,” Yoona shared with a certain graveness to her tone. Chanyeol felt like a crack open inside him, it left him breathless.

It was like there was a disc on an invisible record player, playing Baekhyun’s soundtrack. The melody went smooth, until something hit the record player and the same snippet of the melody started eerily repeating over and over.

It didn’t make any sense.

“What are you talking about?” Chanyeol croaked.

“The guy he was dating was a dear sunbae of mine and he committed suicide two years ago. I don’t know the details, but Baekhyun was preparing for his final exams when it happened. It was very sudden.”

Silence.

“I’m not saying to stay away from him, but…” Yoona hesitated, fidgeted with her can of sikhye and looked down. “I’ve known Baekhyun for years, even if from a distance and he’s always been the same kid from two years ago. Death changes people, usually. It’s scary and devastating but Byun Baekhyun somehow came out of it with not so many scars.” She sighed, tapped her nail on the can and turned her face a little to look at Chanyeol. “But one never really knows,” she concluded.

She stood up and stretched, arms up in the air and skirt flowing in the wind. “The weather is really nice today,” she chimed, and Chanyeol knew she wasn’t touching the topic again.

 _Byun Baekhyun came out of it with not so many scars_.

Chanyeol thought about it, as they returned inside and opened their books to start revising and the more he thought about it, the more he was convinced Yoona was wrong.

He recalled the vaguely sad, nostalgic hint into Baekhyun’s smile even when he was laughing his heart out— a constant dark corner in a brightly lit room.

Baekhyun hadn’t lived through the death of someone dear to him and come out of it unhurt, no. The scars were there, hidden under Baekhyun’s charming, carefree personality, Chanyeol was sure of that. And the fact that most people couldn’t see them, that Yoona couldn’t see them, didn’t mean that they weren’t deep or didn’t hurt— they probably _were deep_ and _did hurt_. Baekhyun was just a master at hiding them.


	8. Track 07

**Track 07**

 

“Some guy came here to look for Byun Baekhyun the other day,” Kyungsoo shared suddenly, looking up from the music sheet for a cover that both him and Chanyeol were working on.

It was lunch time and Janet’s House was deserted and quiet. It was the time of the day when Chanyeol preferred visiting the record shop, because he could ask Kyungsoo to listen to whatever he wanted, and they could talk about it; and maybe some of the cassettes casually ended in Chanyeol’s pocket if they were too old and nobody had bought them yet.

“Some guy?”

Kyungsoo shrugged, passing Chanyeol a headset so he could put it on, leaving one ear free. “Just some guy, a student from S. University, about the same height as Baekhyun.” Kyungsoo put a cassette in the cassette player. “They were talking about stuff. Byun Baekhyun looked a bit weird, if I can say so.”

Chanyeol just hung the headset from his neck with a sigh-- he stayed in silence.

“You’re not asking questions,” Kyungsoo noted, one eyebrow raised. He put aside the cover music sheet and fumbled with some other papers until he found want he wanted. Chanyeol had scribbled _B’s song_ on the top corner.

The guitarist exhaled slowly, looking down at the surface of the counter. “Why was he weird?” He questioned with not much enthusiasm

Kyungsoo seemed to think about it, resting his elbow on the counter and his cheek on his knuckles. “He looked like he really didn’t want to see the other guy, but the guy was there and I was here so Baekhyun couldn’t avoid the situation.”

Chanyeol recalled how shocked Baekhyun had looked when they’d met that man near the restaurant, weeks earlier. How he’d dragged Chanyeol into hidden alleyways for no reason, like he wasn’t in control of what he was doing.

Chanyeol hummed at Kyungsoo’s words, then folded his arms on the counter and hunched forward until his head was buried into them. “And did you hear what they talked about?” His voice came out muffled by the fabric of his hoodie.

“I didn’t want to overhear, but-”

“Do Kyungsoo just spit it out already.”

Kyungsoo leaned back on the stool until his head touched the wall behind him, covered in posters of American musicians. “Apparently they hadn’t seen each other since someone’s funeral. I didn’t know Baekhyun wasn’t original from Seoul. Did you know?”

Chanyeol shook his head with it still resting on his forearms as he closed his eyes. “No, I didn’t. But I knew about someone close to him dying. I heard from someone else,” he explained, trying to keep his tone neutral.

He still hadn’t processed the idea, nor had he any clue about what his reaction to it should be. Someone committing suicide so young was sad, yet Chanyeol didn’t feel any direct connection with it. He was more concerned about the sadness of who was left living -about how miserable Baekhyun had been- than the rest.

“The guy who died was the owner of the guitar, I think. Junki hyung,” Kyungsoo added after a while. He tapped on the desk and the familiar thump of his fingertips was comforting.

Chanyeol felt a weight on his stomach-- he felt sick. He squinted his eyes. _He didn’t need it anymore_ was what Baekhyun had said to avoid talking about the damn guitar and its owner. All the times he’d insisted that Baekhyun didn’t want to do music, that he wasn’t taking it seriously; the times he’d told him to give the guitar to someone else.

 _It’s important for me_.

It felt like a slap in the face. Anyone else would’ve told him to go to hell, but for some reason Baekhyun had decided to stick around Chanyeol didn’t know if he’d stayed because of how important music was for him, or if it was because _of him_ but it didn’t matter at that point.

“I had...some clue about that, but I couldn’t be sure,” he lied after clearing up his voice and peeking up to meet Kyungsoo’s eyes.

“The guy didn’t seem to like the fact that he’s doing music now, you know? At least not too much,” Kyungsoo said. “He asked him if it was a way to move on, or to keep his memory intact after all.”

_Cruel._

“What did Baekhyun have to say about it?”

“He laughed at him. You know, when he doesn’t know what to say. He does that a lot, have you noticed?”

Chanyeol knew exactly what laugh Kyungsoo was talking about. He’d heard it more than a few times, when Baekhyun didn’t have a snarky remark for him.

“I think they were childhood friends, Baekhyun and this guy, I mean.” Kyungsoo said casually, glancing at Chanyeol’s brooding face.  
  
“Why do you think so?”

Kyungsoo replied with a flick of his shoulders, folding the corner of the paper sheet in front of him. “They sounded like you and Jiho do sometimes.”

Chanyeol groaned, sitting up and stretching back on the chair he’d dragged closer to the counter. “Like we hate each other?”

“More or less. Jiho isn’t afraid to tell you when you screw up, even if it hurts you. That’s what that guy was doing,” Kyungsoo concluded and Chanyeol bit the inside of his cheek at that. _As if he weren’t hurt enough_ he thought.

Kyungsoo tapped his fingers on the counter, then flattened the corner of the paper he had folded just then. “I listened to your song again, by the way,” he said.

Chanyeol lowered his gaze to the music sheet where Kyungsoo had added notes here and there and stapled two more papers behind. “What do you think about it?”

“As I said last time, it’s very good. Like, super good. And now that I added the drums and Oh Sehun has sort of played with the bass part a little it sounds so much better. That’s why I gave you the headset.” He hinted at it with a grin and quickly carded his hair as Chanyeol put the headset on.

“I recorded it at school and I had someone play your part, with the guitar plugged in. It just didn’t make sense without.” Kyungsoo said. “Also we might want to record the final version there, for Baekhyun to listen to.” He stopped talking and pressed play.

The melody started just as Chanyeol remembered it, until it transitioned in the variation and Kyungsoo’s drum came in. He’d kept the sound clean and simple. It harmonized well with the guitar without taking over and it gave the part a lot more consistency. Chanyeol felt his heart beat faster as he listened, it was adrenaline and enthusiasm.

He could see himself playing that, on the stage.  

“I could see him sing this, Baekhyunie I mean,” Chanyeol said without even realizing that he hadn’t called Baekhyun with his surname, for once.

“I know. I have no idea how different he sang it when he first showed it to you, but...I think you subconsciously wrote it so that it could fit his voice, and I think it does.” Kyungsoo kept grinning as the melody unraveled and Chanyeol noticed how the person who’d played his part had changed bits and pieces here and there.

Chanyeol swallowed, trying not to look too overwhelmed because of Kyungsoo’s words, though hiding his ears and his whole expression was way too complicated for him to handle.

“I thought you were kidding when you’d said Baekhyun should sing. I mean, I thought he would be good, since you recommended him but...He was having so much fun last time and put so much passion in what he was singing. And his voice is piercing, it...gets where it needs to. It hits me, makes me want to scream with him.”

Chanyeol removed part of the headset, nodding slowly and avoiding Kyungsoo’s gaze on purpose. “He’s always made me feel restless, but I think now that I’ve heard him sing, I it’s even worse. It’s like I can’t handle it. And the song is sad and yet hopeful, but has such a dark...finality to it. I...don’t know.” Chanyeol stopped for a moment, he chewed the side of his nail as the song drew to an end. “I wonder what feelings made him think of it.”

Kyungsoo snorted, then the snort changed into an exasperated laugh, as he planted his palm on his face and flopped on the counter. “I suddenly feel like having a smoke,” he said, apparently out of topic.

The way he was looking at him made Chanyeol feel like he’d done or said something wrong. He kept staring at the counter, vaguely embarrassed. “Do we really want Byun Baekhyun to write the lyrics?” Yoona’s words came back to mind. He breathed out. “I don’t want to put too much pressure on him.”

“But...are you sure that’s not what he wants after all?” Kyungsoo questioned while looking for his packet of cigarettes on the secret shelf under the counter. “And it’s his song. It’s only fair he gives it a try, don’t you think?”

Chanyeol nodded in vague agreement, though his opinion on the matter was contrasting. Baekhyun hadn’t sounded too enthusiastic at the idea of writing anything.

“We can still keep it instrumental, if he doesn’t manage. The rest of our covers have lyrics anyway,” Kyungsoo compromised in the end, throwing one last glance towards Chanyeol.

“I guess you’re right,” Chanyeol mumbled.

 

.

 

“I already told you it was impossible,” Baekhyun whined, ruffling his own hair in a gesture of frustration. “I don’t know how to write lyrics, I didn’t even know what lyrics were three months ago…”

Kyungsoo snorted, turning his back to Baekhyun. “Whatever you say,” he conceded, a vein of teasing in his apparently impassible voice.

The four of them had met up at The Corner on a Sunday morning with the idea of practicing, but in the end they had sent Sehun to buy popsicles because nobody felt like being active when the weather was so nice.

“You’re not even listening to me,” Baekhyun replied, baffled. He sighed, adjusting his guitar strap on his shoulder. “I can’t do it, I don’t know how else to tell you.”

Chanyeol sighed from where he was sitting on a chair on the other side of the room. They weren’t going anywhere: Baekhyun had been so enthusiastic about the song and he had hyped everyone up during rehearsals. Even if he messed up with his guitar parts, his singing was powerful and it complemented Chanyeol’s so well that they modified some of their old covers for that purpose.

About writing the lyrics, though, Chanyeol could almost physically see something holding Baekhyun back. The more he listened to the song and got to know about Baekhyun’s past, the more Chanyeol could understand the reason behind the boy’s hesitation.

Creating a song with a tune that had haunted him for a long time, had already exposed a part of Baekhyun that Chanyeol doubted Baekhyun himself wanted to deal with. Writing lyrics for it would open a pandora box that was probably better left closed.

“Hyun-ah,” Chanyeol started just when Sehun entered the room with two bags of junk food, popsicles included.

“What’s... going on?” Sehun asked, alternating glances from Baekhyun to Kyungsoo. He left the two bags on one of the empty chairs, then proceeded to fish out the four popsicles and a whole bag of corn snacks-- Chanyeol was almost sure that was for Baekhyun.

“Byun Baekhyun doesn’t want to write the lyrics for his song because he’s a pussy,” Kyungsoo teased again, meeting Baekhyun’s eyes.

He was definitely pushing it, Chanyeol knew it. “Kyungsoo-ya,” he called, his voice a bit lower than usual, a subtle scolding in there.

“What. It’s true. It’s not like we’re expecting the new _sky, wind star and poem_. I’m just saying he should try,” Kyungsoo insisted, purposely looking at Baekhyun. It was almost like he was trying to make Baekhyun angry.

“How many times do I have to _just_ tell you I can’t?” Baekhyun clipped back, then took his guitar off and put it on its stand carelessly-- the stand swinged for a moment, but luckily the guitar didn’t fall over.

“Hyun-ah,” Chanyeol called again after Baekhyun had walked to a corner of the room and started staring intensely at the wall, his shoulders rising every time he breathed in.

“What,” he asked, but it didn’t sound like a question. It was almost aggressive. He didn’t look at Chanyeol, it was Chanyeol who stood up and walked up to him slowly, with one hand stuck in his pocket.

“Baekhyun-ah,” he called again, this time touching his shoulder lightly. Baekhyun turned around, tilted his head slightly to the side-- he wasn’t smiling.

“Look we…” Chanyeol glanced at Kyungsoo, thought it was more with the intention of glaring at him. “We don’t want to pressure you for this, ok?”

Baekhyun snorted, he looked elsewhere.

“No, look at me,” he said, and reached for Baekhyun’s cheeks, cradling his face. Baekhyun went rigid, his eyes wide, but he didn’t avoid Chanyeol’s touch and, for once, Chanyeol didn’t hear that voice in the back of his head screaming _danger_.

“We really don’t want to pressure you,” he repeated, searching for Baekhyun’s eyes. “Understood? I really _really_ don’t want to force you to write if you don’t want to.” He hinted at Kyungsoo with a flick of his head. “He was being an asshole just now and he’ll apologize, eventually.”

Kyungsoo muttered something in the background as he sat next to Sehun, then showed his middle finger to Chanyeol, and Chanyeol ignored it.

Baekhyun blinked a couple of times, then Chanyeol felt him nod in his hands-- he realized he was holding Baekhyun’s face closer than he’d ever done before. He frowned when Baekhyun met his eyes, half mad, half...flustered?

“However,” Chanyeol started again. “Remember when I told you I wanted to sing with you?” He asked, lowering his voice a little. “Now I want to sing with you, _and_ sing your song with you. You can do it, understood?”

Baekhyun moved his head so that Chanyeol loosened the grip on his cheeks “But…”

“Take all those feelings you had when you sang the song for me and put them on paper. It doesn’t matter if it doesn’t make sense.”

Chanyeol knew he was being cruel, he knew the reason why Baekhyun was so opposed to trying was because he didn’t want to get hurt again, yet he insisted. Maybe, some hidden part of him believed that reopening those wounds would help them heal completely-- some hidden part of him wanted Baekhyun’s smiles not to be always sad.

“We’ll help,” he added in the end, letting go of Baekhyun’s face. “But if you say that you can’t one more time I’m gonna kick you out of the band, Byun Baekhyun,” he threatened jokingly-- though he also tried to sound very serious about it.

Sehun laughed around his popsicle at the end of the speech. “Hyung wow, you almost sounded cool there, I can’t believe it.”

“Shut up,” Chanyeol mumbled.

Baekhyun chortled at that, but he still sounded nervous, as he retreated and finally took one of the four popsicles that Sehun had left on the chair, by the plastic bags. “What do you guys want me to write about?”

Chanyeol thought about it, biting the inside of his cheek, then decided to keep silent because he didn’t really have an answer.

“Why don’t you write about...I don’t know. Most songs are love songs and people like them, don’t you think?” Sehun prompted with a shrug and Chanyeol’s eyes darted to Baekhyun immediately.

 _That_ was why he hadn’t said anything.

Baekhyun didn’t look shocked, but he had this air to him that Chanyeol couldn’t read. He glared at Sehun, only to find out that Kyungsoo was staring at the bassist too, in an attempt to shut him up.

“You like politics, do you?” Kyungsoo said a bit awkwardly. “Try to write something about it, maybe? Social issues, or shit like that. People seem to like that too,” he tried, only for Baekhyun to laugh a little mechanically and shake his head.  
  
“Social issues...I doubt I could write anything about that without the song becoming a three pages essay, Kyungsoo-ya.”

“Who the hell listens to songs about social issues hyung? People want all the love songs because they can relate to them, right Chanyeol hyung?” Sehun insisted, and Chanyeol clearly saw Baekhyun’s smile falter.

Kyungsoo raised a hand in the quiet of the room and slapped Sehun hard on his nape, hard enough that it echoed. Chanyeol hung his head low, only briefly exchanging a look of understanding with Kyungsoo.  

Sehun was hunched forward and was trying to conceal his whining, when Chanyeol looked back at him. He felt bad just for a moment, wondering if Kyungsoo hadn’t had the time to tell Sehun about Baekhyun’s past. Maybe he hadn’t wanted to tell him.

Baekhyun was there, but it felt like he wasn’t. He was staring at both Kyungsoo and Sehun with half a smile on his face, like suspended. Then he exhaled slowly and took a bite of his almost melted popsicle-- Chanyeol and Kyungsoo’s must’ve been liquified at this point.

“What did I say that you had to hit me that hard, hyung?!” Sehun asked clearly distressed. Kyungsoo put his hand back on Sehun’s nape, in an attempt to make it up for the blow. “I was only saying something obvious, what the hell?”

“I think…” Baekhyun hesitated. “I think they were trying to make you avoid that topic, Sehun-ah. Because of me.”

Chanyeol crouched to the floor with a deep breath. _There we go,_ he thought.

“Why? Did you go through a breakup recently or something? I didn’t know, but they could’ve just said-” Kyungsoo almost threw another blow at Sehun-- and Kyungsoo wasn’t the type to easily hit people. No, scratch that, he never hit Oh Sehun.

“My lover died, that’s why,” Baekhyun said with a bitter smile.

Kyungsoo let the hand fall back where it was, on the back of Sehun’s back and patted him a couple of times, as Sehun went through the same revelation as Chanyeol already had.

Baekhyun bit another chunk off his popsicle and raised his shoulder, as if brushing it off. “It’s fine, Sehun-ah. Just...what do you tell the person you love, when they’re gone?”

Sehun smiled awkwardly, lowering his gaze to the floor. “I...I’m sorry hyung,” he stuttered.

“Have you ever even loved someone?” Baekhyun insisted, a breathiness into his voice that made him sound like he wanted to cry. Chanyeol wanted to get closer, to do something.

“I...don’t know how I feel, when I think about them. I don’t know if I’m sad, or if it’s just that I feel like they abandoned me,” Baekhyun kept going.

Chanyeol had been right about the scars, he could see them. They could all see them now as Baekhyun unveiled them one by one, aggressively, desperately. There was such bitterness in his voice that he sounded angry, though he was trying his best to keep everything under control, under the unphased façade he usually showed.

“What do you tell them, Sehun-ah?” He asked with a weak smile. “That you love them? You miss them? That you think they didn’t give a shit, after all, since they left you here alone?”

Sehun bit hard on his bottom lip while Chanyeol stood up and slowly walked towards Baekhyun and his almost finished popsicle.

“Hyung I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it…” Sehun left the sentence hanging. “I’m sorry hyung,” he repeated.

Baekhyun breathed in, then out. “It’s fine,” he murmured.

Chanyeol got close enough to reach out and touch Baekhyun’s back. “C’mon, let’s get a smoke, alright?”

Baekhyun didn’t even nod; he just followed Chanyeol outside quietly.

It was almost lunch time and the area around the university was almost completely deserted, when Chanyeol offered Baekhyun a rolled cigarette for the first time and, for the first time, he saw him smoke.

They didn’t talk for a while, thought Chanyeol stared at Baekhyun carefully-- the smoke he blew out slowly, calmly almost, was as endearing as that broken softness of his.

“I was an asshole,” Baekhyun muttered after putting out the cigarette on the wall behind him.

He met Chanyeol’s eyes for a moment and Chanyeol didn’t think, as he reached out, ruffled his hair and pushed his glasses a little higher on the bridge of his nose.

 _You’re strong, Byun Baekhyun_ , he thought.

  


.

 

Chanyeol moved in the same hasukjib where Baekhyun was living less than a week after, both because he wanted to cram for his finals and because he didn’t want his mother nagging at him, since he spent most of his time at The Corner for rehearsals.

Baekhyun had found the room for him. Bargained for a good price with the owner and insisted that their rooms would be close enough for Baekhyun to go see Chanyeol without disturbing the other students. Kyungsoo and Sehun had helped with the bags, though Chanyeol hadn’t brought much with him-- and most of it was stuff his mom had secretly sneaked into the bags, _for emergency_ she’d said, and Chanyeol hadn’t known how to avoid it.

The hasuk-jib was extremely quiet and clean, considering the amount of students it hosted. Common kitchen and common area and five rooms, not including Chanyeol’s. The other students were all older than Baekhyun and him and they didn’t seem to be that prone to socializing.

Also it turned out that what Baekhyun had meant by their room being close, was that Chanyeol’s room was in the attic and that Baekhyun’s was just down stairs.

Chanyeol didn’t necessarily hate the room, since it was bigger than the others in the house, but it was also very humid when it rained and Chanyeol had the feeling it would turn in a furnace in the summer.

Baekhyun seemed to like it enough to spend most of his free time there, lying down on Chanyeol’s mattress with his guitar or a textbook. Chanyeol liked to study on his desk anyway-- he’d pushed it under the only window in the room, trying to make the most out of the sunlight.

Baekhyun would just casually show up in the afternoon, when they didn’t have rehearsals. Chanyeol would play a cassette, anything from classical music to Japanese rock, and they would study together.

Baekhyun had showed up during the night once, nearly giving Chanyeol a heart attack.

“It’s too hot in my room,” he’d said.

Chanyeol, in the fog of his drowsiness had mumbled something like “Hot air goes up, this is the attic” which had probably sounded a lot less like that and a lot more like nonsense.

Baekhyun had just shrugged and crawled behind Chanyeol on the mattress.

Waking up the day after, Chanyeol had noticed Baekhyun had brought his own pillow and that he’d mostly slept on the floor, his clothes damp with sweat.

He hadn’t given it much weight, and neither had Baekhyun, apparently. He’d just thought it was weird, and wondered if other people in the house had noticed. Nobody asked about Baekhyun sneaking into other people’s rooms however, and Chanyeol was a little relieved.

The day Baekhyun accidentally broke Chanyeol’s Duran Duran Notorious cassette, was the day that Chanyeol decided he’d had enough of studying.

“Let’s go drink,” he prompted.

Baekhyun just nodded, as he lead the way downstairs.

 

“You know, the tape... I didn’t do it on purpose,” Baekhyun tried to justify himself as they walked side by side following the stream of the big canal in Jaegi-dong-- There was barely enough water to form a small stream where the bed of the river should’ve been.

It was late afternoon already, but summer coming closer had stretched the day longer and the sun was still up on an orange, pinkish sky.

“I know, it happens sometimes. I’ve broken some of the other tapes before,” Chanyeol explained distractedly. “It just snapped, so all I need to do is splice it back together, it’s not hard.

Baekhyun sighed, stretching his arms behind his back. “I still feel bad.”

Chanyeol eyed Baekhyun sideways, reached out to ruffle his hair all the way down to his fringe. Baekhyun went all rigid on him for a moment, then chuckled looking at him through his bangs.

“What was that for?” He asked around a smile.  
  
“You were being gloomy. I don’t like you being gloomy.” Chanyeol shrugged, hinting at the wooden stairs going up the bridge to the big street where a man was selling strawberries in small baskets and yelling at people what a bargain it was.

“But can you really repair it? Baekbeom usually throws his cassettes away when they don’t work,” Baekhyun asked, his lips curving down slightly. “I thought once they broke, they were damaged for good, like vinyls.”

“Actually,” Chanyeol frowned, as he climbed up the first steps of the wooden stairs. He looked back to Baekhyun until he met his eyes. “You can repair vinyl records too, you just need to be very patient. I think Janet’s House’s owner offered that service in the past.”

Baekhyun snorted, following him. “I work there and I had no clue.”

“Which is why I told you I never thought you could do music, Byun Baekhyun. You just didn’t seem to be interested, but I was surprised in the end” Chanyeol explained with a vein of teasing in his voice. He knew that would somehow trigger Baekhyun, but he liked riling him up sometimes as much as as he disliked that Baekhyun _always_ had an answer ready.

“Which is why I told you you didn’t look like a good guitarist, when I first met you. You just didn’t have the look for it, but I was surprised in the end,” Baekhyun smirked, sarcastic and charming as always.

“You stole my lines, Hyun-ah, it’s not fair,” Chanyeol complained.

They walked past the truck with the strawberries in baskets, past the convenience store.

“Isn’t it fun when you turn all sassy on me, and I outdo your sass, Park Chanyeol?” Baekhyun asked, patting Chanyeol on the back. “That’s my favorite part of you. That, and the nose. That’s a great nose you have there, sir.”

Chanyeol’s hand automatically reached for his nose, as he felt his ears go crimson. Baekhyun must’ve noticed it because he laughed, amused.

“Shut up, ByunBaek,” Chanyeol muttered, glaring at Baekhyun and yet finding it interesting how that smirk was still lingering on Baekhyun’s features.

Baekhyun patted Chanyeol’s back a couple of times accompanying it with a deep breath, and they fell back in a comfortable silence for a while.

“You need to teach me how to fix those cassette tapes. I want to show it to hyung,” Baekhyun said out of the blue.

Chanyeol hummed, rolling up the sleeves of his t-shirt until he looked like those gangsters he’d seen in the movies. “What kind of person is your brother? I only have Park Yoora and I want to kill her most of the time. Or she wants to kill me, depending on the situation.”

Baekhyun thought about the answer for a few seconds. “He’s the funny type. Makes people laugh a lot, but he’s also very responsible. I think he’s wanted to kill me more times than I’ve wanted to kill him.”

Baekhyun smiled, looking at the pavement and distractedly following the wall on his right with his fingertips. “I heard his wife and him got a baby girl, my mom sent me pictures in a letter.”

“You haven’t seen him for a while,” Chanyeol said, as he realized it.

“No I moved here after my final exams which...was good and bad, in a sense?” Baekhyun smiled faintly, his hand going back into his pocket. “I’m originally from Bucheon.”

Chanyeol recalled Yoona saying that Junki sunbae used to be a friend of hers. He used to study at the same university, he was popular there. It made sense for Baekhyun to apply for the same university. It made even more sense that he would pass-- Baekhyun was smart, after all.

Chanyeol could almost imagine his happiness, getting his university results, contrasting with the shock of knowing of his boyfriend’s death. At that point leaving his hometown might have helped cutting ties with his family and friends, but Chanyeol was sure that it’d been detrimental in the end. Moving to the same faculty where his boyfriend used to study, meeting the same people couldn’t have helped Baekhyun move on.

Chanyeol exhaled slowly, dragging his eyes towards Baekhyun and focusing on him. “You should go see him. Your brother, I mean. And meet your niece, take pictures. Let her vomit on you or something…”

Baekhyun stopped, staring at Chanyeol with a fond expression that surprised him. It was just a moment, too brief for Chanyeol to interpret it. It was there, then it was gone, and Baekhyun was turning around, his attention on the door of the traditional korean house in front of which they had stopped.

“What’s wrong?” Chanyeol asked, as Baekhyun darted towards the door and planted his ear against the wooden surface of it.

The house was obviously in a state of decay. The door was locked with a huge padlock, but the iron bar it was attached to was covered in rust. There was a wall circling the whole structure, but the tiles were falling off and there were a couple of holes where the bricks had been removed or pushed inside. From what Chanyeol could see from those holes, the yard and the house inside didn’t look much better than how it seemed from the outside.

Baekhyun turned around again, looked past Chanyeol to the street, then went back to listening through the door. “I hear something crying from the inside,” he murmured.

Chanyeol felt a shiver run down his spine as the thought _ghosts_ flashed into his mind, then mentally called himself stupid for believing something like that. “It’s none of your business, we should go.”

Baekhyun grinned at him-- a raised eyebrow. “What, are you scared Park Chanyeol?”

Chanyeol groaned, then checked the area frantically, as Baekhyun picked up one of the fallen bricks from the floor, and proceeded to hit the iron part under the padlock.

“Byun Baekhyun what the hell are you doing, that’s trespassing!” Chanyeol insisted, and even got close enough to pull at Baekhyun’s arm. “Baekhyun-ah,” he called, and he realized he _was_ scared.

“I think there’s kittens inside,” Baekhyun muttered and hit the padlock once more, with more strength. Then again, and again. It didn’t fall apart, and the noise was becoming more evident as Baekhyun kept smashing the brick against iron and wood.

“Ah- Jesus Christ, Byun Baek. Move,” Chanyeol took the the brick from Baekhyun hands and repeated the same action, just hitting a different part of the iron bar once, twice, until it gave in and suddenly it was there, hanging.

It was Baekhyun the one who pushed the door and entered the _hanok_ without hesitation. Chanyeol threw the brick and followed-- he heard crying too at that point, and they had enough stray cats in the backyard back at home, that he was sure it was indeed kittens.

Baekhyun swiftly stepped on the wooden porch and it creaked dangerously as he moved forward, deeper inside the house. “Stay there,” he said, glancing back at Chanyeol.

Chanyeol waited outside, looking around, as his heartbeat rose the longer Baekhyun stayed inside the house.

There was an eerie silence in that place, and it looked like a family had lived there, judging by the pottery and the various objects scattered here and there: a baby shoe, a used umbrella, broken plates. They must’ve left in a hurry, and never come back. “Byun Baekhyun!” Chanyeol called once, getting no reply.

He stepped on the porch too, peeking inside. The rooms were still all furnished, but all the drawers had been opened and what they contained was all on the floor. _Burglars_ Chanyeol thought, and he stepped into the second room, through a sliding door. The floor creaked, but it didn’t give in.

“Byun Baekhyun?”

Chanyeol almost died when he felt someone put weight on both his shoulders, screaming “Wrah!”

“Fuck! Byun Baekhyun!” he whispered/screamed, craning his head around as Byun Baekhyun chuckled to his expense, and rested his head on Chanyeol’s nape for a second. He took a couple of steps back, smiling as if nothing had happened.

“I found the kittens, come see,” he prompted.

There were three kittens and they were all cuddled up together in a small wooden box which, Chanyeol supposed, had contained jewellery, at some point.

“Their mom will be here soon, and she’ll chop our heads off,” Chanyeol said with a shrug as Baekhyun splayed his jean jacket on the floor and proceeded to move the kittens from the box.

“I just want to give them some food in the yard, then we can put them back here,” Baekhyun explained. He carried outside the jean jacket with the three kittens peeking out as Chanyeol stayed a little behind, not trusting the floor.

He would’ve left the room, if something on the floor hadn’t pulled at his sweatpants, and meowed. There was another kitten, black with white paws, and it started nibbling at Chanyeol’s ankle as soon as he got the chance to lift the sweatpants fabric a little.

“Hyun-ah, there’s another one,” Chanyeol said as he picked up the kitten. He immediately felt his nose close up and instantly cursed his ancestors and whatever he could think about, because the kitten was so very soft and he was just so very allergic to it.

Baekhyun laughed when Chanyeol greeted him with a sneeze and passed him the last kitten, who seemed to like Chanyeol more than Baekhyun for some reason -- _Bullshit_ , Baekhyun had insisted.

Chanyeol came back from the convenient store with four tuna cans and sat on the porch next to Baekhyun in silence. He even took off his shoes, and the fourth kitten immediately started attacking his foot. Of the others, only one glared at both of them until he gave up, and went to curl up next to Baekhyun after he’d finished his meal. The others went back inside, after playing for a while.

The sun was starting to go down and the shadows were getting longer, as they just sat there in silence. Chanyeol turned around, his eyes on Baekhyun. He was smiling vaguely and for once, it wasn’t a sad smile but rather a content one. His hair had grown a little too long, and his sideburns curled up backwards towards his ear. Baekhyun had freckles -just a couple- on his cheekbones, and the shadows were making them more obvious, along with the moles on his lip, on the center of his cheek, on his ear and down to his neck.

When he noticed that Chanyeol was staring, Baekhyun’s eyes crinkled up in amusement and Chanyeol thought _pretty_ for the first time, since he’d met him. Baekhyun smiling was pretty, and Chanyeol hadn’t even known he could smile like that.

“I’ll catch fire if you stare longer, I think. Autocombust or something.” Baekhyun nudged at Chanyeol’s shin. “I’ve read it somewhere,” he said like an idiot, as usual.

“Sorry,” Chanyeol replied, not knowing what else to say.

He was still processing the fact that he’d thought Baekhyun was pretty, and the more he thought about it, the more he realized how simple it was. _Baekhyun was pretty to him_.

“You know, that kitten…” Baekhyun hinted at the kitten now trying to climb Chanyeol’s leg. “His name should be Socksie. Look at those paws,” Baekhyun said, reaching out with his finger only for the kitten to playfully claw at it.

“I guess,” Chanyeol replied, sniffling. He groaned, lying back on the porch, with the kitten climbing on his torso. “I’m gonna take a nap, wake me up when you want to go,” he said.

In reality his heart was still drumming in his chest and he wasn’t sure he could resist from looking at Baekhyun again, from staring again. He needed to sort his thoughts about Baekhyun, and about himself too.  
  
“Oh,” Baekhyun said. “Alright,” but he sounded a bit confused, disappointed almost.

Baekhyun stayed quiet for a while, then started humming their song, and transitioned it into that Radiohead song that he’d heard Chanyeol sing once, Thinking about You. Eventually he stopped altogether.

“Chanyeol. Park Chanyeol?” He called, hesitant. “Are you really sleeping? Ya,” he poked Chanyeol’s thigh lightly and Chanyeol almost gave in and turned around.

“Yeol-ah…” Baekhyun sighed, and Chanyeol guessed he must’ve hugged his knees, judging by the sound of his shoes hitting the porch. “Regarding the lyrics...I think I want to try to write them, after all.”

Chanyeol groaned back, and that was supposed to be a groan of understanding.

“You sounded like a grumpy bear,” Baekhyun chuckled. “Don’t ignore me, I’m talking to you.”

Chanyeol cracked one eye open, met Baekhyun’s gaze and swallowed thickly. “I’m listening.”

“The lyrics, I said. I’m going to try,” Baekhyun repeated, then went to look down at the kitten still snoozing on his thigh. “You know the person who gave me the guitar...He used to be my lover. You looked like you...knew something about it, last time at The Corner...so I’ll assume someone told you. About me, I mean.”

Chanyeol didn’t reply, he dragged his eyes towards the green tiles of the hanok.

“I used to love him a lot.” Baekhyun giggled faintly. “I was so madly in love and now...I’m not sure what to make of what’s left of those feelings. I can’t put them into words yet, but...I want to try.” He paused, looked down at Chanyeol. “What do you say?”

“Whatever you want, Hyun.” Chanyeol responded as neutrally as he could. He even mustered a small smile, at least he tried.

In reality what he felt was a sudden wave of sickness, of this strong, irrefrenable feeling of breaking something, of hitting someone. He was mad, mad at Baekhyun for being in love with someone, mad at Junki or whatever his name was, for dying and taking the right to hate him away from Chanyeol, because Chanyeol couldn’t possibly hate someone who had taken their own life away.

Until Baekhyun said to go back, Chanyeol didn’t realize that what he was feeling was jealousy, and that he was in it deep; he was already drowning.  



	9. Track 08

**Track 08**

 

Sehun always looked like he had no idea what he was doing when they started rehearsals. He had exactly the same blank face as when Chanyeol had first met him and he’d started unpacking a brand new Steinberger bass in the middle of The Corner; followed by a heavy-duty coiled cable, still sealed in its plastic bag. Kyungsoo, Chanyeol and Jiho had stared at him with raised eyebrows, too afraid to ask if he’d robbed a music shop or something. Two years after that day, Sehun never explained the mystery of how he got all of his equipment, nor did he look more enthusiastic to play.

He would usually hang his head low until his fringe covered his eyes and play by ear whatever The Housewives decided to experiment with.

That day wasn’t much different for Oh Sehun, at least. Chanyeol had started alone for the opening of Black by Pearl Jam, one of the covers they’d been preparing for the gig coming in two weeks. Kyungsoo had dropped in after a few measures and Baekhyun had followed, a little sloppily. Sehun entered last, exactly when he needed to. Judging by his expression and his precedents, Chanyeol was almost sure Sehun had no idea what the original song sounded like, yet he sounded extremely good; better than usual. It was hyping Kyungsoo up, and he smiled wildly as he dropped a series of snared drum punches for the start of the refrain.

“Yes Oh Sehun, like that!” He encouraged from behind his drum kit.

Sehun nodded imperceptibly as they kept playing. It would’ve been perfect, because Kyungsoo and Sehun were in perfect harmony, tight like it was one big instrument playing the sound of a heartbeat. Chanyeol, however, fumbled with the words during the second verse, eyeing Baekhyun with a frown.  
  
He’d completely missed his cue, starting too late once again. Chanyeol tried to to ignore it, getting distracted himself and tripping on the chords as they started the second refrain. He knew he wasn’t playing well, but he blamed it on Baekhyun’s continuous mistakes through all of the songs they’d tried.

 _All the love gone bad turned my world to black_ Chanyeol started singing, his lips brushing against the microphone _Tattooed all I see, all that I am, all I'll be_ He dragged the last note, closing his eyes and trying to let himself concentrate-

One of Baekhyun’s strings snapped and Chanyeol stopped singing and playing altogether. Sehun and Kyungsoo followed, as they realized that the two guitarists had stopped and Baekhyun’s eyes were fixed on the broken string, as if in trance

“Byun Baekhyun, what the hell?” Chanyeol raised his voice a little and he saw Baekhyun’s shoulder flinch a little. “Have you even been practicing?” He walked up to him, reaching for the broken strings and groaning.

“You’ve been making mistakes the whole time, are you here?” Then he raised the string for Baekhyun to see better, as if he didn’t see it perfectly already. “And now this? And you haven’t written any lyrics either!”

“Chanyeol-ah…” Kyungsoo scolded, and stood up to walk towards the center of the room. “Don’t push it,” he added.

Baekhyun raised his eyes to meet Chanyeol’s—  he was glaring at him, looking angry, offended. “You’ve been making mistakes the whole day as well, sir. What happened during that second refrain, was that my fault too?”

“Chanyeol hyung...Baekhyun hyung c’mon guys…” Sehun intervened, coming up behind Chanyeol to touch his arm lightly. “Don’t fight...we’re all stressed…”

Chanyeol groaned, letting go of the string and pulling back the arm Sehun had touched. “Do you even want this? Huh? If you don’t, then you know what to do, Baekhyun-ah.”

Baekhyun snorted, shaking his head as he unslung the guitar from his shoulder. “You know how much I want this. Do I need to remind you the reason why or can you remember on your own?”

Chanyeol stopped immediately, biting his tongue. Sehun dragged him back a couple of steps, forcing him to put his guitar on the stand and drink some water. Baekhyun had sounded hurt and that had been enough for Chanyeol to feel sick.

All of his thoughts had been jumbled up for the past days: his thoughts about Baekhyun, the song, about Baekhyun’s smile, and Baekhyun’s ex boyfriend. He had just allowed them to accumulate, they were driving him mad.

“Leave your guitar here, I’ll fix your string,” Chanyeol muttered without looking at Baekhyun, much to Sehun’s dismay. The bassist sighed.

“I don’t need your help,” Baekhyun muttered back.

Kyungsoo came forward, closing the distance between him and the other two boys and finally extended his arm to knock lightly on Chanyeol’s head.

“You sucked today, quite frankly,” Kyungsoo said without worrying much about Chanyeol’s broken hopes. “You’ve scolded Baekhyun but he did better that you did. Considering he’s only been playing for a while and you’re a damn professional, Park Chanyeol.”

“Hey, you’re being mean, I didn’t do that bad,” Chanyeol tried to justify himself, looking anywhere in the room except the corner where Baekhyun was searching for new strings in his guitar case.

“You sucked, hyung. And you messed up the lyrics in more than one verse, aside from what Baekhyun hyung has pointed out…” Sehun noted, patting Chanyeol’s shoulder.

“And I wasn’t being mean. _You_ were the dickhead just now.”

Kyungsoo turned around, facing Baekhyun as he was trying to figure out how to change a string on his own, sitting on a stool. He looked perplexed. Chanyeol rolled his eyes vaguely amused, but avoided commenting.

“Look, guys…” Kyungsoo shrugged, playing with the drumsticks he was still holding in one hand. “I really don’t want to disband today because the two of you argued, alright? So let’s stop here and let’s go get some air, alright? Baekhyun, you come with me.”

Baekhyun alternated glances from his guitar to Kyungsoo and vice versa, then replied with a raise of his shoulders. “What about the string?”

“Chanyeol will fix it later. He hates doing that, see it as some sort of punishment.”

Kyungsoo didn’t need to meet Chanyeol’s gaze for confirm that. He half smiled at Sehun as he proceeded towards the stairs. Baekhyun followed slowly, eyeing Chanyeol carefully until it was too obvious and he had to look elsewhere.

“You’re the one who has to buy him icecream today, I think.” Sehun said, and he pulled Chanyeol’s arm hard, encouraging him to stand up. “At least I didn’t know what I was saying, you perfectly did and you decided to spit that bullshit anyway, hyung.”

“Shut up, Hun-ah. He was messing up,” Chanyeol tried again, despite knowing that what Kyungsoo had said wasn’t wrong. He’d been the one messing up more.

“Whatever hyung, stay in denial, what do you want me to say?”

Chanyeol bit the inside of his cheek as they climbed up the stairs to the exit. Kyungsoo’s car disappeared behind a corner and Chanyeol found himself wondering where he was taking Baekhyun, if they’d be back. _I’m an idiot_ he thought after that.

Sehun and him slowly walked to the closer convenient store. Sehun paid for canned coffee and Chanyeol felt bad as usual, as if he was stealing from a child though Sehun was very much grown up.

 

They ended up sitting in a dark corner behind a chinese restaurant, on a low wall jutting on the street below. There wasn’t a soul walking, given that dinner time had been over for a while, and that there was little to no activity in the university area after classes.

“Why do I always have to pry the words out of your mouth like I was interrogating a murder suspect, Park Chanyeol Hyung? Huh?” Sehun said with no restraint. He drank his own chocolate milk directly from the carton —  he’d forgotten to take a straw.

Chanyeol took a sip of his coffee. He frowned deeply but wasn’t brave enough to give Sehun a proper reply.

“You’ve gone back to your distracted self, and I thought we were over it but no, your singing was off, Hyung. Your chords were a mess, I don’t know what the hell your fingers were doing there but that wasn’t what they were supposed to do.” Sehun stopped, gobbled down some more milk and cleaned his chin with the back of his sleeve. “And you snapped like that to Baekhyun hyung.”

Chanyeol rubbed off the condensation on his coffee can and exhaled slowly. “I’ve...just had a lot of things to think about and I’ve figured none of them out.”

Sehun hummed, nodding. He turned around slightly to glance at the street below, then dragged his eyes back to Chanyeol. “And I guess finals aren’t helping either,” he suggested.

Chanyeol nodded, but it was a white lie. He was indeed nervous because of school too, but that was the last of his problems. He recalled Baekhyun’s bitter reply from earlier and sighed, looking down. When he took a sip from his coffee it tasted way too sweet for his liking.

“Hyung…” Sehun called to get Chanyeol’s attention. “Is there something wrong with Baekhyun hyung? Or...you know…” He hesitated and bit on his bottom lip as if trying to find the right words. “...with you _and_ Baekhyun hyung? Did you argue?”

Chanyeol’s eyes darted towards Sehun immediately, wondering if Sehun had noticed something he hadn’t. “What do you mean?” He croaked, then cleared his voice as he avoided Sehun’s gaze.

“You look so tense, but you didn’t get mad at me or Kyungsoo at all, and we insulted you, hyung. And last time you were so careful to consider Baekhyun’s past when, you know. I said those things.” Sehun tilted his head back, looking at one of the flickering streetlights. “You didn’t care at all today, so...I wondered if you argued. Or if Baekhyun hyung did something that made you mad, or...I don’t know hyung, you’ve been so complicated lately.”

“Have I?” Chanyeol questioned, then concluded that he had been, after all. “No I haven’t argued with him...and he hasn’t done anything to make me mad, just…” He paused, looked at Sehun’s face way longer than necessary, trying to find an answer there while he ordered the words into his mind. “...I don’t know how to explain it.”

Sehun rolled his eyes and leaned back with a groan. “You’re so frustrating hyung, I swear. Just say it, I don’t care if it doesn’t make sense. You told Baekhyun hyung to write those lyrics even if they didn’t make sense, now I’m telling you to spit it out.”

Reaching out with his hand without much care Chanyeol pushed Sehun’s back away from the edge of the wall—  he really didn’t want Sehun to make a ten meters fall down the slope. “At first I really disliked how he was always around, you see?” He said once Sehun was sitting properly again. “And I thought it was because he was so insisting, but he’s...you know how Baekhyunie is, people like him. He…”

“He’s sort of charming in his own way, yeah,” Sehun finished his sentence and agreed with a nod.

“So I thought I was getting used to his presence, and I was happy and nervous about him joining the band, about teaching him, about...everything, really. I’m just never calm when he’s involved, I get moody and restless and-”

“Hyung…” Sehun cut in, looking at him with a raised eyebrow. “What are you trying to tell me?”

Chanyeol ignored him, knitting his brows together. He’d left the canned coffee on the surface of the wall. “I told you it doesn’t make any sense. I must have a problem with him, I don’t know I guess he has that kind of effect, what can I say huh?”

“No, hyung you don’t get it,” Sehun shook his head slightly and proceeded to finish his milk. “It makes sense and actually I think I know what you’re trying to tell me, but I’m not sure if _you_ know. Which is why I’m asking.” Sehun flattened the milk carton and turned around until he was sitting cross legged facing Chanyeol.

He poked Chanyeol’s cheek, Chanyeol let him until he pushed his hand away with a chuckle. “What are you doing Oh Sehun?”

“My hyung is an idiot,” Sehun said, amused. “I’m waiting for you to realize how much of an idiot you are.”

Chanyeol huffed, then shifted to take his tobacco pouch out of his pocket. “Roll one for me?” He asked, tossing the pouch on Sehun’s lap. Sehun opened it like it was his, taking out some tobacco and one of the foils.

“I’ve seen some fancy people in my department use those white filter things, hyung. Ever tried?”

Sehun sprinkled some tobacco on the foil, then rolled the cigarette while Chanyeol looked away towards the street, shaking his head lightly.  “Nope, I haven’t.”

They stayed quiet for a little more. In the end Chanyeol lit the cigarette and dragged in some smoke, then blew it away from Sehun.

“Hyung, you know…” Sehun poked Chanyeol’s butt with the tip of his shoe. “Baekhyun hyung said he had a lover, in the past. Kyungsoo told me it was a hyung of his, or so people say. Is it true?”

Chanyeol coughed some smoke then nodded squinting his eyes. Talking about Baekhyun’s lover had the same effect on him as a few days earlier, at the abandoned house. He felt angry and helpless at the same time. Since then he’d figured out that’s how jealousy felt to him.

“It’s true, Byun Baekhyun told me, and I heard it from others as well,” he confirmed anyway.

“So...Baekhyun hyung likes men, right?”

Chanyeol turned his head back to Sehun and stared at him confusedly, blinked a few times, nodded again around a drag of smoke. “So it seems, yeah.”

“And you’re ok with that?” Sehun never took his eyes off Chanyeol, it felt like an interrogation, Chanyeol felt almost uneasy.  
_  
Was he ok with that?_ He hadn’t been completely, he had feared what the others thought at first. He hadn’t been able not to see Baekhyun under a different light for a while, but now...

“I guess I am. It’s none of my business who Byun Baekhyun likes,” he lied with a shrug, pushing away that feeling of jealousy he’d felt pricking at the back of his head when Baekhyun had admitted of being deeply in love with someone else.

Sehun didn’t look fully convinced. He sighed, scratching the side of his cheek where his scar was. “Hyung, look.” Sehun scraped something off the surface of the wall before carding a hand through his hair. “I tried to hint at it until now, but I guess I’ll have to go straight to the point for you to see it...or admit it, I don’t know what stage you’re in right now.”

“Stage.” Chanyeol repeated, his eyebrow raised. “Oh Sehun stop it with this bullshit already. I’m nervous, I snapped, there’s nothing more to it alright?”

Sehun wasn’t having it. “Hyung I think...you like Baekhyun hyung,” he spit out in the end, a little hesitant.

Chanyeol blinked as his gaze slowly went to the floor.

“I think you like him, that’s why you get all...like _that_ when you’re with him. You said it was like that from the start, so maybe you just...didn’t know. Or maybe you did...I...Hyung, are you going to say something?”

Chanyeol swallowed a thick lump of nothing as his heart went wild in his chest and his face felt suddenly like every vein of his body had gathered there. The image of Baekhyun on the porch of that abandoned house, the way he’d smiled at Chanyeol teasing him—  the sun reflecting on his features, on the frame of his glasses.  
  
Chanyeol had thought Baekhyun was pretty.

The light of the cigarette went fainter and fainter until it disappeared and Chanyeol thanked the darkness that was hiding how intense of a shade of red his face was.

“Oh I- I think...I think you’re right.”

“And that’s where he realizes, congratulations hyung,” Sehun patted him on the back and gathered his knees to his chest. “I thought you knew, I mean you were pretty obvious about it so...But you didn’t have a clue, did you?”

“Shit…” Chanyeol muttered. “Shut up, Oh Sehun.”

He liked Byun Baekhyun. Byun Baekhyun was a guy and he liked him.

He’d always thought he was immune to girls because of Yoora, but in retrospective it could’ve just been that he was never into girls after all. He’d always paid more attention to men than he did to women, he’d just never found someone who pulled him so into his orbit like Baekhyun had.

 _He liked Byun Baekhyun_ , he kept repeating inside his head like a mantra.

“Shit…” he muttered again, reaching out to grasp Sehun’s wrist. “Sehun-ah, what do I do now?”

Sehun looked at him panic, then snorted as he pried Chanyeol’s hand off his wrist with a grimace. “Hyung, look at you, you’re almost cute. Too bad I can’t see it properly but your face must be priceless, I kinda want to take a picture.”

“Stop it Oh Sehun, it’s not funny I...seriously don’t know what to do now. What do I tell my mom? Or him? Or anyone?”

Sehun’s snort turned into a proper laugh and he patted Chanyeol’s back again—  more like he slapped it a couple of times. “Hyung, first...You don’t need to tell anything to anyone, mh?”

Chanyeol nodded like a child at his first day of class, wondering when Sehun had gotten so wise.

“Second, you have to figure out if _he_ likes you. Just because he likes men doesn’t mean he likes you, you know. I’m talking about liking with a capital L, in _that_ sense,” Sehun added. It made sense, but for some reason it didn’t reassure Chanyeol at all.

“Well thanks, that’s helping a lot. I’m still not sure what to do with this...with me being like this.” Chanyeol gestured to himself with both his hands—  his coffee forgotten somewhere.

Sehun shrugged, his nose up to the sky. “What do you want to do, Hyung? You accept it and then you hide it. Not everyone is so open about it, you know? Wrong time, wrong country...” Sehun left the sentence hanging for a moment and Chanyeol eyed him carefully, trying to read between the lines. “And you’re not the only one _like that_ as you put it.”

“You’re way too calm about all of this,” Chanyeol commented. “Is there something you’re not telling me?”

Another snort followed, even more amused this time. “There’s a lot of stuff I don’t tell you, Hyung. But I might have liked men for a little longer than you have, so I guess I went through my panic phase a while ago.”

“What?” Chanyeol almost yelled, standing up with his eyes going even larger than usual.

“And there goes the second revelation of the day, is hyung gonna reach tomorrow without dying? We’ll never know.”

“Shit don’t joke about it!” Chanyeol slapped Sehun’s forearm with a little more strength than intended. “You never told me!”

Sehun, the quiet reserved guy that had showed up to rehearsals one day looking like he’d robbed a music store, the same Sehun that jammed to Metallica and heavy metal songs, that same Sehun also liked men.

“Of course I never told you, Hyung. It’s not something I write on my forehead when I go out, and you know...I didn’t know how you’d react.” Chanyeol thought about Jiho for a moment, and how judgemental he’d been towards Baekhyun and the rumors about him and thought that Sehun had done the right thing not telling him.

“I guess,” Chanyeol agreed in defeat after a while. Sehun slid off the wall and they started walking down the deserted slope towards The Corner. “So you’ve dated men?”

“I _am_ dating a man,” Sehun shared nonchalantly.

“And I guess you’re not gonna tell me who it is.”

“Exactly.”

“But I told you I like Byun Baekhyun,” Chanyeol complained and threw an arm around Sehun’s shoulder.

“ _I_ told _you_ that you like Byun Baekhyun, Hyung. It’s a little different, you know.”

“Oh, come on Oh Sehun. I’m paying for the barbecue.”

Sehun sighed, looking straight ahead. “Not gonna say, hyung, give up. Instead think about how to apologize to Baekhyun hyung instead, you were a first class douchebag today.”

Chanyeol didn’t give up and kept whining even while he was replacing the string on Baekhyun’s guitar. He still felt a little overwhelmed while walking back to the hasuk-jib, trying to sort out his feelings about Baekhyun, about himself. Sehun’s presence had helped a lot, though his final confession about his sexuality had left Chanyeol with a bigger doubt than expected.

It had been pretty easy for him to accept it, once Sehun had pointed it out for him, Him liking Baekhyun was a fact, a fact that Chanyeol could do nothing about, apparently; he had been so busy pushing it away and not understanding that he had no more strength to deny it.

_What about Baekhyun’s love for his ex boyfriend, though?_

Chanyeol was a pessimist, and no matter what he did to keep the negative thoughts away, his brain just kept telling him that it would never work out whenever Baekhyun’s nostalgic smile came back to mind.

 

.

 

The festival organized by the Department of Visual Arts had brought to school a good number of imported foreign movies and a couple of directors that would give speeches during the day about the movies they’d created. Sehun had insisted for Chanyeol and the others to drop by and watch at least one of the films they were showing in the school theater but in the end Chanyeol had only gotten there half way through it.

The movie they were showing was some sort of documentary about Hiroshima, Chanyeol wasn’t that sure, but he’d recognized the scenes of the bombings shown in the movie despite the narrating voice being completely in French.

The room was almost completely dark, saving from the light coming from the door at the back left open to let the fresh air get in, and it was so silent Chanyeol felt a little uncomfortable zigzagging through people to get to the back.

Sehun was on the side of the room sitting on one of the desks pushed against the wall. Cupping a hand on his mouth to cover it, he was whispering something to the professor next to him. The man was nodding and pointing at the screen, whispering something in reply. Chanyeol eyed Sehun for longer than necessary, wondering if maybe he wasn’t having a love story with the professor, but then Sehun raised a hand to say hi and Chanyeol pushed it aside.

He walked past them, bowing slightly to the professor and just grinning to Sehun, then proceeded forward until he was at the very back of the class. He recognized Kyungsoo just because his hair was cut way too short for che class standards- people tended to like longer hair for fashion purposes but Do Kyungsoo just cut it shorter and shorter every month. _He’s preparing for the military_ people used to say.

“Hey,” Chanyeol whispered stopping next to him as a woman and a man kissed on the screen.

Kyungsoo just nodded, briefly glancing at Chanyeol. “You’re late, ParkChan. Hasn’t Sehun given you shit about it when you came in?”

Chanyeol shook his head—  his lips turning down slightly. “Nope, he was busy talking to the professor,” he whispered again, getting a little closer to Kyungsoo not to disturb the people around them. “Is Sehun having an affair with professor Park?” Chanyeol asked, this time directly into Kyungsoo’s ear.

Kyungsoo’s reaction was surprised and confused enough for Chanyeol to conclude that either he had no idea, or he’d just said something very stupid. He started speaking before Kyungsoo could give him an answer. “I don’t know, he always brags about the professor liking him. I wondered if there wasn’t something I didn’t know,” Chanyeol continued.

Kyungsoo kept his eyebrows raised and shook his head. “Are you drunk?”

Someone from the front row of seats shushed them, turning back. Both Kyungsoo and Chanyeol whispered an apology bowing a little deeper than they would for a greeting. They went quiet, and when they did someone else’s murmuring became more obvious under the movie dialogues. The lack of subtitles and the film being in a foreign language didn’t help with his concentration, but Kyungsoo seemed to be very into it so Chanyeol gave up on their conversation.

He looked around in the darkness, more interested in who’d come to the festival than whatever movie they were showing. He recognized a couple of faces- mostly people from Sehun’s department he’d been introduced to at some point. He even recognized a highschool friend and a sunbae from third year. It took him a while to realize that one of the people in the room, sitting on the windowsill on the left side -the one closer to the screen, was Byun Baekhyun.

The boy was alternating long glances from the movie to the view outside the window, whatever it was. The times his eyes glided towards the window, though, were far more frequent. The lights flickering on the screen reflected in weird shapes on Baekhyun’s glasses and on his skin. Chanyeol focused on his expression, on the way he was munching on the side of his lip distractedly and how his brows knitted every now and then.

Chanyeol exhaled. He’d been staring at Baekhyun’s face from the beginning, from their very first encounter. Even then there had been something—  something had kept him looking.  
He suddenly wondered how many moles Baekhyun had on his face and he realized he’d stared so many times, but he’d never thought of counting.

He’d never thought he’d find Baekhyun pretty.  
He’d never thought he’d want to see him up closer.

There was a loud noise in the movie and everyone’s attention went back to it. Baekhyun didn’t. He was clearly not very interested, looking at the buildings outside. Sehun had probably bribed him too, and Chanyeol knew Sehun well enough to know how difficult it was to ditch him. He thought Baekhyun would be able to, but his presence itself screamed the contrary.

Chanyeol kept his eyes fixed on Baekhyun’s silhouette for a while, making good use of the dim light of the room and the almost complete darkness in the corner where he’d sat with Kyungsoo, since Baekhyun couldn’t see him.  
  
“Stop staring, lover boy. You’re being obvious,” Kyungsoo scolded in a whisper and Chanyeol thanked the darkness for one more thing as he felt like an idiot for being caught red handed—  his ears and neck probably went slightly red too.

“I’m gonna kill Oh Sehun,” Chanyeol murmured, glaring towards the bassist who was still animatedly chatting with his professor.

“As if I needed Oh Sehun to find out,” Kyungsoo responded in a really low whisper. “Have you talked to him yet since last time?” He hinted at Baekhyun with a flick of his chin. “That wasn’t nice to watch.”

“How do you know that we’re not talking?”

Chanyeol sighed as Kyungsoo shrugged lightly. “You were joined at the hip til two weeks ago and then suddenly Baekhyun is not next to you _nagging_ as you would say, and you’re all miserable...I did the math.”

They hadn’t talked for three days or so. Though Chanyeol was living in the same building as Baekhyun, Baekhyun would either leave too early or come back too late for them to meet. They’d exchanged a brief look during breakfast the day before, then it had been Chanyeol the one too coward to talk to him and Baekhyun had left for class.

It was a foreign kind of emptiness, the one that Chanyeol had felt when realizing how well Baekhyun had embedded himself into his life.

He hung his head until he hid his chin in the collar of his hoodie. “He’s been avoiding me,” Chanyeol shared and his eyes automatically searched for Baekhyun once more.

“Well, do something,” Kyungsoo deadpanned.

Chanyeol did nothing, but he dragged his gaze back to Baekhyun’s frame. He was almost sure Baekhyun had felt his eyes on him at some point, because he’d turned around, searching for someone in the room. He’d given up after a while and Chanyeol had almost felt disappointed—  he wanted Baekhyun to see him.

Eventually someone turned the lights on, cutting through the ending titles. People stopped whispering and started talking much louder, almost muffling Sehun’s professor’s voice as he tried to introduce the French director who would give a speech and accept questions in the following meeting.

Chanyeol didn’t care much. Movies were Sehun’s area of expertise, Chanyeol wasn’t the type to fully concentrate of the artsy films Sehun was so into.

Kyungsoo glanced at Chanyeol and he grinned—  maybe he hadn’t been that into the movie after all. “Shall we go?” He prompted.

“Yeah I’ve done my part,” Chanyeol shrugged as Kyungsoo pushed his shoulder lightly to encourage him to walk. Chanyeol glanced back to check on Baekhyun briefly, but the windowsill where he’d been sitting was empty.

“What about Byun Baekhyun?” He asked, hoping for Kyungsoo to get the hint as other students started swarming out of the classroom and pushing them towards the door.

Kyungsoo pointed at some area ahead of them, closer to the other exit and it took him Chanyeol a few seconds to see Baekhyun but he did.

“Wo, it was hot in there,” Kyungsoo noted once they were outside and he was fanning his face with his hand. “I think I’m gonna wait for Oh Sehun and then I’ll join you at The Corner later to rehearse.”

Chanyeol hummed, more busy trying to locate Byun Baekhyun once again in the the black haired crowd of students. “Do I get ByunBaek?”

“You get Byunbaek,” Kyungsoo confirmed.

Chanyeol nodded, before turning around at someone touching his elbow. What he was met with was a girl much shorter than he was—  high school uniform, long black hair, sunny smile.

“What is miss Yoo Shiah doing here, huh?” Chanyeol asked, tilting his head to one side. He reached out to mess up with her hair a bit. She recoiled, pushing Chanyeol’s arm away.

“Oppa stop it, I’m not a kid anymore,” she complained with a pout. Yoo Shiah was definitely too young to be there meddling with University students, but Chanyeol had known her long enough to know that was exactly what Shiah had done since she was a child and played all the war games with Jiho and him.

“Oppa stop it, I’m not a kid anymore” Chanyeol mimicked, raising his voice as much as he could to match it with hers, which had Shiah kicking his ankle without even stopping to think about it.

“Oppa I even said hi to you earlier, in the classroom. I guess you didn’t hear me and I couldn’t raise my voice,” she said. “Have you been well? I haven’t seen you at Jongdeok’s lately.”

“When is he going to fire you? Someone told me you keep breaking glasses Shiah,” Chanyeol teased. She kicked him again with her tennis shoe, a little harder this time, but Chanyeol didn’t budge. “I’ve been fine, Shiah-ya. Has Jongdeok told you about our gig in ten days or so?”

Shiah nodded enthusiastically. “You know I’m your biggest groupie, oppa. Though I’m a bit sad that I can’t cheer for Jiho oppa anymore.” She sounded genuinely disappointed and it made perfect sense given her long time crush on Jiho. Shiah used to only come to the concerts as an excuse to see Jiho, and only after that she got her job as a waiter at Paradise Dust. “I haven’t seen him at PD either,” she added and Chanyeol had to make a great effort not to let any specific reaction seep through.

“He’s been working,” he muttered, obviously grumpy. If Shiah had noticed, she didn’t make any comment on Chanyeol’s tone. Another girl’s voice caught both Chanyeol’s and Shiah’s attention as someone called for her from a group of high school students all gathered a little down the corridor.

“I’ll have to go soon,” Shiah explained with an apologetic smile. “But then, is there really someone taking Jiho’s part since he left The Housewives? You kept it all a mystery while you were working on that song at Jongdeok’s. And when I asked Kyungsoo he didn’t want to tell me.”

Kyungsoo was still there, though he’d walked a couple of steps away to try and steal Sehun from his professor. He was talking to Professor Park, his hand on Sehun’s forearm as he stood next to him. Chanyeol’s gaze went back to Shiah—  he raised an eyebrow.

“Of course he didn’t, I told him not to,” he lied. “But yes, we have a new guitarist. He’s a newbie, he’s started playing only recently” Chanyeol said lowering his voice a little.

“I learn awesome fast though, don’t I?” Chanyeol felt that pull from the inside that people get when they’re going up the stairs and think there’s one more step, only for their foot to fall into nothing. It was the same sensation when he heard Baekhyun’s voice that close.

Baekhyun’s arm went around Chanyeol’s shoulder, for obvious reasons pulling him down a little as the guitarist craned his head. He tried to glare at Baekhyun, though he was just very confused. Then Baekhyun grinned, as if nothing had happened between them and Chanyeol went rigid—  proximity was overwhelming after days of Baekhyun avoiding him.

He didn’t get it. He didn’t get _him_ . Baekhyun was playing this game with his own rules and Chanyeol felt like he’d been thrown in halfway through the match with no explanation. One moment Baekhyun was avoiding his eyes and the other he was clinging to him, grinning. _It didn’t make sense_.

“Why are you bad mouthing me with the girls, Yeol? Huh?” Baekhyun said, putting some more weight in the arm he had around Chanyeol’s neck. He turned his head to Shiah then, smiling at her, smug. “Has he said anything else bad about me?”

Shiah shook her head with this confused but pleased smile. “Not really,” she added, sounding incredibly soft in comparison to the Shiah Chanyeol was used to—  this Shiah thought Baekhyun was handsome, it took very little time for Chanyeol to realize it. He even found it cute for a moment.

Baekhyun finally released Chanyeol’s neck and cleared his voice. “Don’t believe anything bad he says about me,” he said, while he removed his glasses and proceeded to clean them with the hem of his shirt. “He’s trying to steal all of my fans because he knows I’ll be the popular one whatever he does.”

Chanyeol rolled his eyes when Shiah giggled at that. “I don’t think that’ll be a risk,” she assured. “Oppa, why are you not introducing us?” She was clearly asking Chanyeol, but she she kept looking at Baekhyun the whole time.

“Yes, Chanyeol. Why have you not introduced us yet?” Baekhyun put his glasses back and smacked Chanyeol on his forearm. It frankly hurt and Chanyeol bit on his cheek to muffle a miffed grunt. He was going to kill Baekhyun, at some point.

“You have a mouth, just introduce yourself,” Chanyeol muttered back. Whatever it was that was going on in front of his eyes, Chanyeol was starting to dislike it.

“I told you, he wants to make sure I don’t get fans,” Baekhyun whispered, as if Chanyeol wasn’t there, watching all of it. “I’m Byun Baekhyun, by the way. The newbie.”

Shiah kept cackling even when she bowed her head covering her mouth. Chanyeol had seen Yoo Shiah acting like that with Jiho in the past, and it rubbed him the wrong way to see her doing the same with Baekhyun.

“I’m Yoo Shiah, third year at ** Highschool.” She smiled shyly and Chanyeol noticed how she’d started fumbling with her hands. “I’m a big fan of The Housewives. I can’t wait to see you perform for the first time. I’ll definitely be a fan.”

“Yeol-ah, see? Your plan failed,” Baekhyun kept teasing, even reaching out to pat Chanyeol on the back. Chanyeol stood there and just made a long, annoyed exhale.

It was odd, seeing Baekhyun acting so smooth and confident in front of a woman. What wasn’t odd instead, was Shiah’s reaction to Baekhyun’s behavior. Liking Baekhyun was as easy as it seemed, Chanyeol knew it. Baekhyun was there, openly flirting with Shiah and yet Chanyeol was just as affected, just as attracted.

Chanyeol kept glancing at him, torn between wanting Baekhyun to stop acting that way and wanting him to continue—  confident, endearing. There were rumors about Baekhyun getting more than one confession from girls. Chanyeol had heard about those before and it was in that moment that he realized how real they must’ve been.

“So, will you come watch the gig?” Baekhyun asked, lifting his hand and showing his pinky finger wrapped in a skin colored band aid. “If you say yes then it’s a promise, mh?”  
  
“She works at Paradise Dust, she’ll be there for sure if she has a shift at that time,” Chanyeol explained, neutral. Shiah nodded in agreement.

“Depending on what day it is if I’m lucky enough I might end my shift and just stop there to watch you guys perform. I’m sure you’ll be awesome.” She stepped forward, closer to Chanyeol and looked up to him. “I really liked that song you were composing, oppa,” she shared, asking for Chanyeol’s attention.

“We will be performing that one. It’s even cooler now that Kyungsoo has added the drums and more stuff to it,” Chanyeol replied with a curt nod.

 _Yoo Shiah_!

It was a different voice this time around, but they were calling for Shiah again from the big group of girls a few meters behind them. Shiah yelled something back to the girls, then her lips curled up as her eyes went back to the two guitarists. “I’m afraid I have to go. It was nice to meet you Byun Baekhyun. And see you later, oppa!”

“Remember, you promised to come to the gig!” Baekhyun reminded her before she could leave. She turned around smiling, raising her arm just to show him her raised pinky finger as she walked away.

Baekhyun chuckled to himself, slowly dragging his gaze towards Chanyeol’s unimpressed face. “What?”

Chanyeol snorted, incredulous. “Shouldn’t I be the one asking? What was all of that?”

Baekhyun shrugged in response, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose as they moved a couple of steps towards the stairs. “She’s a fan! I liked her,” he admitted nonchalantly.

“I can’t believe I had to witness...” Chanyeol started, then left the sentence hanging as he shook his head while trying to locate Kyungsoo and Sehun, if they were still around. “It was the cringiest, the worst-”

“Didn’t we have to go practice?” Baekhyun’s hand rested on Chanyeol’s back for a moment and Chanyeol stopped moving—  a shiver ran down his spine as Baekhyun smiled at him, soft. He breathed in, his eyes going to the ground.

_Baekhyun never played fairly._

“Yeah, we did,” Chanyeol responded quietly. “Sehun and Kyungsoo should be there already.”  
  
“Let’s go, then. I’ve been practicing.” Baekhyun’s hand was still there and it stayed on the same spot, guiding Chanyeol out of the building until they were outside.

 

.

 

Baekhyun was picking the strings of his guitar biting down on his lower lip in concentration as he followed the notes on the music sheet he’d left on the floor. Chanyeol’s eyes were fixed on him attentively, sitting on his amp, slightly to the side. It was the song Chanyeol had written that Baekhyun was playing with Kyungsoo accompanying him on his drums.

Baekhyun’s part didn’t really follow the melody— that was left to Chanyeol as it was the part that had to be performed without mistakes- however it complemented it so that the music had a second layer of depth to it.

Baekhyun pulled the strings, tickled them while sliding his fingers on the neck of the guitar and stopping whenever he needed to push down a string with his fingertip for the next chord. Every movement was sharp and precise, the position of his fingers on the tabs were neat and the strumming clean. He even smiled faintly every now and then when he managed to get through a tricky part easier than usual.

The guitar was starting to yield under his touch, it was starting to become an extension to Baekhyun’s body and it was fascinating to see how he’d changed from the first time Chanyeol had seen him hold that Gibson.

Baekhyun hadn’t lied when he’d said he’d been practicing. He’d gotten better. He’d gotten incredibly better, to the point that Chanyeol wanted to be on that stage next to him as soon as possible. Baekhyun playing- no, Baekhyun playing _well_ had the same effect on Chanyeol as a peak of adrenaline. He was hiding his mouth behind his cupped hands just because he was smiling so much his cheeks hurt.

“Shit Byun Baekhyun you’ve made huge progress! Have you been going to the club more or…?” Kyungsoo asked after clapping his hands loudly a couple of times. “ParkChan-ah have you seen that?”

Chanyeol was half dumbfounded, half extremely hyped as he nodded, standing up. “I’ve seen that. I don’t know what to say, to be honest.”

“That I’m awesome, that’s what you should say, Yeol,” Baekhyun clipped back seriously. Then he completely changed tone, and went from sounding extremely confident to excited and soft. “Did I do well? How was it? I’ve been banging my head over some of the parts, they were too difficult at first.”

“It was good, hyung,” Sehun confirmed from the chair he was sitting on. “Now we only need the lyrics and we’ll be done with the song.”

“Have you tried writing something down?” Kyungsoo asked. Chanyeol intentionally kept quiet, being reminded of how badly he’d snapped last time he’d touched the topic. He didn’t want Baekhyun to avoid him for days again, even if for some miracle he’d started talking to Chanyeol again.

Baekhyun glanced towards Chanyeol briefly. He looked concerned but Chanyeol couldn’t be sure— it had been too brief. “I’ve tried. Last time I managed a few lines but I’m still not sure, sorry ‘bout that.”

Baekhyun’s eyes went to the ground, as he grazed the strings of the guitar with his fingertips. “I’ll keep trying,” he murmured a little after.

Kyungsoo closed the distance between him and Baekhyun, then patted his forearm and walked past. His eyes stopped on Chanyeol’s for a moment. “Cig?”

Chanyeol followed him as Kyungsoo passed him a cigarette and Chanyeol took it between his fingers. They left both Sehun and Baekhyun to themselves in the basement, though it was raining and Chanyeol would’ve much preferred smoking without getting soaked.

It took a lot of cupping around the stick and Kyungsoo giving up and lighting Chanyeol’s cigarette with his own before they could finally lean against the wall and smoke in peace— Chanyeol’s naked feet in his fake adidas slippers got wet every time the wind blew in the wrong direction.

“He’s impressive,” Kyungsoo murmured around his cigarette.

“I’m screwed,” Chanyeol replied after blowing out the smoke, looking away to the end of the street. “I think I must like him a lot. It’s driving me insane, I don’t even know if he realizes.” He frowned, then carded his free hand through his mussed up hair.

“I think he does. All you need to do is see what he wants to do with it, I guess.”

Chanyeol sighed, sliding down the wall behind him until he was squatting, one cheek on his knuckles and one arm resting on his knee with the cigarette burning away. “I don’t even know what I want to do about it, to be completely honest. Have you ever liked someone so much your brain stops working?”

“Yeah,” Kyungsoo replied simply. “I do. You have to figure things out, though. Do you want to date him? Fuck him?”

Chanyeol’s eyes widened. Images of Baekhyun walking out the common bathroom in the hasukjib with his hair still wet and a t-shirt way too big for him flooded his mind and Chanyeol froze, staring at nothing in particular. “You...Just made me have really weird thoughts.”

“Well I mean, that’s what you do with people you like. You date them or just have sex with them and then forget about it. It depends how close to love your liking level is.” Kyungsoo paused, flicking the ashes off his cigarette. “It’s not as hard as you think.”

“Ahh..” Chanyeol groaned, his head flopping low, as he made even more of a mess of his already disgusting looking hair. “His hands are pretty…” He blurted out after a few second of quiet.

“Oh God,” Kyungsoo said, forcefully pushing Chanyeol’s butt with his foot until Chanyeol lost his balance had found himself butt on the ground. “Park Chanyeol get a fucking grip, you’re getting cringy.”

Chanyeol gave up to his fate and kept sitting on the ground with his almost finished cigarette. “I told you I’m screwed.”

“Yeah, fuck I can see that.”

“You know why I fought with Jiho?” Chanyeol asked all of a sudden, completely off topic. He looked up at Kyungsoo as he put out his cigarette by pressing it to the ground. Kyungsoo shook his head, his attention on him.

“We saw Baekhyunie with some guy. Jiho said it was disgusting,” he explained, his voice low. He couldn’t hide how sad and angry that still made him. “Flash news, apparently I’m disgusting too.”

Kyungsoo’s face slipped into a shocked expression for a moment, before inhaling deeply and looking away. “Piece of shit,” he muttered.

“Piece of shit, yeah,” Chanyeol repeated with no particular inflection into his voice.

Chanyeol didn’t feel much like talking after that, so they smoked in silence.

 

Chanyeol was the first one to go back to the basement, Kyungsoo stayed up a little bit more to smoke another cigarette and probably deal with the last news about one of his closest friends being such a bastard.

Jiho had been Chanyeol’s best friend since they were kids, they’d shared everything from memories to experiences; from their first broken toy, to the first day of school. Jiho leaving The Housewives had been a betrayal already, or so Chanyeol had perceived it as. It had started as their project, Chanyeol had expected it to stay their project until the end, but Jiho had left and it hadn’t been the same after that. Maybe Jiho had changed, maybe that was why he’d become someone Chanyeol didn’t know.

Chanyeol sighed as he entered the basement, Sehun leaving as he entered.

“Is hyung still upstairs?”

Chanyeol’s eyes stopped on Baekhyun sitting on the floor, his Gibson still on his lap. He was peeling the band aids off his fingers, all focused— between his legs, a few unused ones.

Sehun tapped Chanyeol on the shoulder and he jumped a little. “What?”

“Is hyung still upstairs? Didn’t you hear me the first time?” Sehun pointed at the stairs.

“Ah, yeah,” Chanyeol replied belatedly as his eyes slid back to where Baekhyun was. “He’s upstairs, nobody kidnapped him.”

Sehun didn’t reply and Chanyeol didn’t turn back to check on him, but the door closed with a loud clang and Sehun was gone. Baekhyun just threw a fleeting glance both to the door and Chanyeol, before going back to his bandaids. He was peeling off the last one from his pinky finger when Chanyeol walked closer to him.

Baekhyun sitting there, bracing his guitar, it made him look small even if he definitely wasn’t that tiny— it reminded Chanyeol of the first time he’d seen him on those stairs, in the back of the Chemistry Building.

“Hey,” Chanyeol started, a bit shy. Baekhyun looked up again, crumpling the last band aid and tossing it to the ground.

“Hey,” he replied. He sounded tired, contrasting to how much energy and enthusiasm he’d put into playing earlier. “Is Kyungsoo gonna smoke the whole packet?”

Chanyeol snorted while he slowly went to sit right next to Baekhyun, their backs half resting against the amplifier behind them. “Could be. Sometimes he can go a bit overboard with cigarettes,” Chanyeol admitted.

“Mmh” Baekhyun tilted his head back until it touched the edge of the amp. He closed his eyes— his fringe prickling them. He blindly took off his glasses and pinched the part of his nose where they were weighing, with an exhausted groan.

“You haven’t been sleeping much, have you?” Chanyeol commented, folding one leg until he could rest his forearm on it. Baekhyun shook his head with a smile, his eyes still closed.

“I think I didn’t sleep at all yesterday, actually.” He laughed weakly after that. “I had a test today and I was terrified I would arrive late, so I practiced to keep myself awake instead of studying. I won’t be surprised if I fail.”

Chanyeol snorted, looking down at his own hands as he flattened the creases of the fabric on his pair of sweats. “Idiot,” he teased, looking at Baekhyun from the corner of his eyes with a grin.

“I learned from the best,” the singer clipped back with a similar grin to Chanyeol’s. “And you all said it was great! I caught two birds with one stone.” He blindly searched for the hem of his t-shirt only to rub his lenses with it and laughed, almost hysterical. “Chanyeol-ah, why isn’t there a bed in this place? Where do you guys sleep if you nap in here?”

Chanyeol snorted, looking around the basement. “I can’t put a bed in here, Hyun-ah. Is a couch alright?”

Baekhyun hummed, breathing in. “Whatever, give me something I can nap on. With cushions, possibly. And a blanket,” he mumbled, his voice getting lower until he went completely quiet.

Chanyeol stared, following the shape of Baekhyun’s ears with his eyes, the slope of his nose, and lingered on the mole on his cheek. His face looked different without glasses, more mature. Chanyeol thought back to all those scars that Baekhyun was hiding, all the weight he’d decided to carry on his own.

It hurt Chanyeol, made his heart ache and it gave Chanyeol yet another reason to find Baekhyun even more extraordinary.

“Hyun-ah,” he called hesitantly— he tried hard for his voice not to shake, but he wasn’t that successful.

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry, for the other day.” He murmured, focusing on Baekhyun’s fingers. “I shouldn’t have said what I said. You’ve been working twice as hard as anyone else I…” he tripped on his words for a moment, terrified he’d accidentally say too much. “I was a dickhead, I’m so sorry.”

Baekhyun didn’t reply immediately, but when he did he just flicked his shoulders a little. “It’s fine, I wasn’t mad. I was just... a bit disappointed, I guess.”

Chanyeol’s hand reached out for Baekhyun’s carefully— not both of them, just the one he used to push on the strings, the one he’d covered in band aids. It was covered in blisters, just as it had been when Baekhyun had just started. “I’m so sorry,” Chanyeol repeated.

Baekhyun observed Chanyeol through half lidded eyes, as the guitarist pulled his hand closer. Some of the blisters had broken— the new skin was angry red underneath the patch that had lifted. “These are pretty bad…” Chanyeol blew lightly on them with a frown. “Have you put anything on them yet? An ointment? A cream?”

Baekhyun laughed breathily, shaking his head. “I’m not a girl, ParkChan, it’s fine.”

“It must hurt like fuck when you play, though.” Chanyeol’s tone was insisting at this point. He put Baekhyun’s hand on the boy’s leg again, then levered on the wall to stand up.

“It does, but what can you do?” Baekhyun replied. “Where are you going?”

Chanyeol walked to the opposite corner of the room where Sehun had left his bag and crouched in front of it, opening the front zipper pocket. “I knew he had one,” he said triumphantly before fishing out a small white tube of ointment.

When he sat next to Baekhyun again and pulled the boy’s hand on his own lap again, Baekhyun was eyeing him curiously, as if wondering until where Chanyeol would push himself. “I’m being a good band leader and I’m taking care of my newbie guitarist. Aren’t I the best?” Chanyeol asked jokingly, trying to deal with his own heart beating like a drum, like a whole rock band inside his chest.

Baekhyun laughed back, “I can’t believe you’re doing this.”

Chanyeol applied some of the ointment of his own index finger before distributing it to the blisters on Baekhyun’s fingertips and carefully grazing the exposed parts of skin. It wasn’t the first time Chanyeol had touched Baekhyun’s hands before, but this was different. It was intimate, his skin was soft under Chanyeol’s fingers.

“Shut up,” Chanyeol shot annoyingly at Baekhyun, hitting his leg lightly with his own knee. “Am I forgiven?”

Baekhyun unslung his guitar and Chanyeol sort of helped him with his free hand. They lowered the Gibson to the floor and Baekhyun sighed, then turned his head until his nose and forehead were touching Chanyeol’s shoulder.

“I’m really trying hard with the lyrics,” he murmured. He closed his eyes— his glasses still somewhere on the floor.

“I know, Hyun. We’ll wait.” He sounded reassuring, but he was scared. He’d been the one insisting to have the lyrics, and yet he wasn’t sure he wanted to know what Baekhyun would write about. He didn’t want to listen to Baekhyun sing about being in love with someone else, being miserable because he couldn’t be next to that someone anymore.

Chanyeol’s fingers never left Baekhyun’s hand, even after he was obviously done applying Sehun’s cream. He distractedly drew pattern’s on Baekhyun’s palm, at the base of his fingers. He grazed the scar he’d made the day when they first met.

Ironically, he was so worried about Baekhyun’s scars, and yet he’d given him a real one on the first day they’d met.

“Your shoulder is crazy uncomfortable but I’m gonna nap, alright?”

Chanyeol would’ve usually clipped back with some annoyed reply, but Baekhyun had sounded so tired earlier and his hand probably burned like nothing else— he didn’t have the heart to tell him off. “Rest a little, I’ll wake you later,”

 

.

 

They had decided to take some time off rehearsals, for a few days. Enough to give Baekhyun the chance to concentrate on his lyrics and Sehun some time to prepare for an important test. _Plus hopefully Chanyeol will stop being this tense for this performance and we’ll actually get to enjoy it_ Kyungsoo had teased, and Chanyeol had been ready to say how not true it was, before realizing Kyungsoo was right.

This performance did feel different, and it would be for a lot of different reasons; the main one being that it was their way to have a big comeback, or so Chanyeol had tried to tell himself. However, under layers of a lot of excuses for Chanyeol’s anxiety, was the real reason.

He wanted the performance to be better, the best they’d ever done. He wanted to play well and he wanted it so much that he’d started to screw up in the process. All of this because he wanted to give Baekhyun some closure.

It all went back to him, in the end. All to that first encounter, months earlier.

Chanyeol had stopped feeling that passion, that sparkle that made him love music since after Jiho had left. Then Baekhyun had showed up out of nowhere, a sudden electric charge; and suddenly Chanyeol was enjoying the moments he braced his guitar, he was composing, _he was living his music_.

They’d agreed to meet up two days from the concert at Paradise Dust so that Baekhyun could get used to the stage and to how the equipment would be repositioned for the gig. In the end only Chanyeol and Baekhyun had gone there, Sehun and Kyungsoo ditching them for a meeting they made sure to keep very vague.

“It’s fine,” Baekhyun had said as they walked back to the hasukjib. “We’re having the final rehearsals tomorrow, so it won’t be a problem. And all we needed to do today was check the space, so…” He dragged the sentence and left it like that, with a light shrug.

“They’re still suspicious. And they’re paying for meat next time. It was important,” Chanyeol insisted.

It was a warm afternoon, Chanyeol had finally sent his hoodies back and started rocking his t-shirts with gym shorts and ugly slippers and the old ladies at the subway stop had started selling fresh shikhye instead of ingoppang. It almost felt like summer.

“I’m really craving meat right now, don’t you?” Baekhyun asked, rubbing a hand on his stomach a couple of times.

“I’m so hungry I could eat an entire cow for all I know, so yeah, “ Chanyeol agreed easily. “I also need a shower though, so let’s stop for an hour or so and let’s call the two dickheads for dinner.”

“Yes!” Baekhyun exclaimed cheerfully— he sort of sounded like an idiot too.

The street in front of the hasukjib was almost completely deserted as they approached it, but it was only when Baekhyun whispered _What the hell?_ that Chanyeol noticed something was off.

There was a guy waiting under the building, with a jacket from S. University and freshly permed hair. It was the same guy that they’d met back then, when Baekhyun had freaked out and he’d agreed to join the band. It was him, and he was clearly waiting for someone.

Chanyeol eyed Baekhyun for a moment, concerned and he almost gave in to the urge of dragging him away just as Baekhyun had done back then. Baekhyun’s defeated sigh, though, was enough to stop him.

The guy noticed them, as they closed the distance between him and them. He didn’t bow, but waved his hand low, with an unsure smile.

“Baekhyun-ah, can we talk?” He asked.  
  
Baekhyun nodded, and hinted for Chanyeol to go back inside.

There was a new kind of anxiety gnawing at his stomach, as Chanyeol closed the door behind him, but he couldn’t name it yet.


	10. Track 9

**Track 9**

 

_“Do you like music?” That question, the voice he asked it with and his posture— a bit rigid, hunched forward, diffident almost— looking away from you as if he didn’t really want to talk. It was the first time he’d talked to you. No, more like the first time any of Baekbeom’s friends visiting had talked to you._

_That question was the first thing you remembered about him. And his back, that you could see whenever you walked past Baekbeom’s room and your brother yelled at you to leave, because you were the younger brother and he didn’t want you around._

_When you tried to recall it, it’s glimpses mostly: him turning around to steal a glance while playing Super Mario on your dad’s computer with Baekbeom, his bag in the living room —new, always clean and neat, compared to your brother’s; his forearms and the back of his neck in the summer, at least two shades darker than the rest of what you could see of his body._

_Then you closed your eyes for a moment and you saw him sit next to eleven years old you, with a fake branded t-shirt under his school uniform, uneven bowl haircut— he still had his backpack on. He looked elsewhere, to the tv or the kitchen, it was a detail you couldn’t remember and he asked “Do you like music?”_

_You watched him attentively. He was intimidating— the type that didn’t have friends at school because people found him scary._

_You got what the question meant, but you didn’t know what to reply because you didn’t listen to music. You heard your brother’s steps getting closer so you lied and nodded twice, like some sacred secret you were sharing with him only. Then Baekbeom was back, or maybe your mother called you from the kitchen. You ran to your room, any case, but that question never left you nor do his eyes or the shape of his lips._

_Maybe it started when he sat next to you after playing soccer with your brother in the park, near the river. You noticed how his knees were scratched and the skin on his forearms and the back of his hands was the same color of his nape, which you were so used to seeing— your brother kept teasing him for it, but you found it pretty for some reason._

_The way he carelessly lay down on the wooden benches on the riverside, bathing in the sun, told you things about him you didn’t know._

_It started during the lunches at your house, when it was so hot that you kept all of the windows open and your mother would make steaming hot samgyaetang for you all, saying it would be good for your bodies. It started with him murmuring “It’s so hot I think I’ll die,” while watching into his plate, and you suddenly noticing he wasn’t talking to Baekbeom but to you; that it wasn’t your brother he was imperceptibly smiling to, it was you. “What music do you like?” He asked in a whisper as your brother was getting water. That diffidence, that sort of detachment into his tone— as if he was forcing himself to talk to you— was still there, but there was a new kind of softness to it that you hadn’t noticed the first time._  
_  
_ You said you didn’t know and you genuinely didn’t. Music was something that had passively existed to you until that moment, and him asking you about it had felt like a small sort of epiphany.

_“You should come to the disc shop. Then you’d know,” he’d said. It seemed simple to him, like going to school or the convenience store. You only knew those two, and the gatcha machines behind the bookstore; you only had a vague idea of what a disc was._

_“Maybe one day,” you replied politely, knowing your brother wouldn’t like you hanging out with his friends._

_He gave you a cassette the day after, walking in your room before going back. He said to listen to it, that it was good music and it took you a good amount of begging Baekbeom to get him to teach you how to use his cassette player and let you listen to it. Your brother called Lee Junki an idiot for giving_ you _a cassette, of all people, but he gave in and you listened to the thing over and over in your room, thinking that whatever it was that you were listening to, it was_ beautiful _. It made your whole soul tremble._

_You started your piano lessons after that, and Junki hyung had kept sneaking cassettes under your fingers for you to listen to even though you became perfectly capable of finding the music you liked on your own. It had become some sort of ritual for him to come to your room and leave one of those square pieces of plastic next to you, told you to study well and rush to Baekbeom’s room. His posture was less rigid, and he looked you in the eyes when he spoke. Rather than intimidating, he was interesting._

_He still lay in the sun after soccer, but that time he was bracing a guitar when he sat next to you— his forehead still glistening with sweat and the fake branded t-shirt almost completely soaked from the water he’d just sprayed on himself. He would tickle the strings and make music and then sing songs you’d never heard before with his eyes closed. Baekbeom would join you while he was still playing and would call him names. They would laugh at something you couldn’t understand but you didn’t mind feeling a bit left out, as long as you were allowed to be there, to watch._

_You watched him a lot, even when you didn’t want to._

_You noticed small details from the way his hair had gotten longer; to how his shirt was always untucked, the last button left open; to how he wore ugly band aids on his fingertips. You didn’t know exactly why or what you were looking for until you saw him kissing a boy in the back of the swimming pool near school. It was then that you understood what_ wanting _meant, and that you wanted him to kiss_ you _._

 

_Junki hyung had started his band in autumn during his first year of highschool. They were called Flower Tetris at first, then they had changed names multiple times into something that got dumber as the band mates changed and their styles changed too. You watched them play at every single rehearsal, watched Junki hyung get more confident with his guitar and more annoyed at his bandmates. You often half jokingly, half seriously asked him to join the band and he half jokingly, half seriously replied that you needed to grow up a little more. He rarely came to your house anymore, but you met him much more frequently, without your brother now._

_He liked introducing you to people before their gigs and those people inevitably liked you  and your witty remarks as much as Junki hyung seemed to like them._

_They played and you watched from the backstage holding your breath. When Junki hyung would strum and sing in the microphone with that low, a bit nasal voice of his; it didn’t matter that the drummer didn’t follow him and the bassist made a complete mess of his part, the public screamed and you screamed with them. It was adrenaline running through your veins._

_He kissed you when you were fifteen in that rehearsal room while nobody was watching and held hands with your on the way back home since that day. It made your heart rush and your hand sweat as you felt the softness of his as you walked. His kisses were fleeting and soft but also intense like his contrasting persona._

_When you thought about music, you couldn’t help but overlap it with him and the image of him playing his guitar. He often said he played for you sometimes, that he had songs he was composing thinking about you, but it didn’t matter how many times you asked, he would never show them to you. You stopped asking about joining the band at some point, when the bandmates started being all older than Junki and your presence sometimes felt like dead weight at rehearsals._

_Junki never asked you to join and you gave up on piano at some point. You couldn’t remember exactly why, but it must’ve been because you had no time or because you weren’t that much into it anymore. Jongdae, your best friend, told you it was such a stupid thing to do, but you had no answer for him._

_Jongdae also thought liking Junki was stupid, but it must’ve been because Junki was friends with his brother and you hadn’t exactly liked Junki hyung when he was Baekbeom’s best friend either._

_Jongdae had a lot of things to say all the time, you drowned in them but you liked him and you liked his brother and how the four of you would hang out together sometimes. Junki didn’t kiss you nor hold your hand in these cases, but people were not as blind as they seemed and they all got it at some point._

_You didn’t care._

_Junki hyung kissed you and you felt like living an eternal summer._

_You remembered lying on the floor of the living of his single room, your head on his belly as his fingers carded through your hair. You were humming to something you weren’t sure what it was exactly, but it had been stuck into your head for days. He said “Wow that’s good, who sings it?”_

_You said you didn’t know, that you made it up yourself. He laughed and ruffled your hair until it was prickling your eyes. “But that’s impossible, Baekhyun-ah. You must’ve heard it somewhere and you just don’t remember.”_

_He laughed some more and you giggled with him, wondering if maybe he wasn’t right._

 

.

 

Paradise Dust was full as usual on a saturday night, people crowding every corner and filling the air with constant chatting— a loud, insisting buzz that drowned every other sound in the venue. The stage was still empty and the bands performing that day had all gathered in the backstage to warm up or simply chat the tension away— some were veterans, some others were newbies. The Housewives were somewhere in between; this wasn’t their first performance -excluding Baekhyun of course- but somehow it felt like it was.

Guns n Roses’ Sweet Child o’ Mine was playing in the background from the speakers as Chanyeol left the others behind to take a peek at the crowd. He was nervous, more nervous than he’d ever been before a live show. He could feel the tingling under his skin and that dangerous twist to his insides that half made him feel like he wanted to throw up, half spiked his adrenaline. He wanted to perform and at the same time this performance scared him like nothing else.

A new group of people flowed inside Paradise Dust; they were probably in their mid twenties, judging by their style of clothing and their faces. Chanyeol intercepted Yoora in the back, she was talking to another girl with a bob. He waved his hand at her and it took her a while to see him, but she did after the girl pointed him out to her.

She walked up to Chanyeol with a crooked smirk, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. “You are looking green Park Chanyeol,” she commented flatly. “Are you sure you’re not gonna step on that stage and shower us with your vomit?”

Classic Yoora content. Chanyeol grimaced, pushing her arm carelessly. “So graphic, Noona,” he complained. He raised up a hand to bite the side of his finger, looking at people gathering around the bar, asking for drinks. “It’s very much possible, though.”

“Eeei,” she flapped her hand a couple of times. “Our family has strong stomachs, you can’t be our disappointment. Plus there’s a few sunbaes I’d like to impress, over there, so be sure not to be the lame little brother today, mh?”

She snuck her head between Chanyeol’s body and the door leading backstage while at the same time holding onto her brother’s shoulder. “Oh, there’s Sehunie too?” She energetically waved her hand as Chanyeol craned his head to glance at his bandmates.

Sehun and Kyungsoo were sitting one next to the other on a couch on the side of the room. Kyungsoo bowed his head slightly and Sehun waved with a somewhat coy smile. Baekhyun didn’t even notice. He was crouching to the ground with his head on his knees, folded on his Gibson.

“Baekhyunie is not doing well is he?” Yoora asked as she retreated. She curled her lips to the side in an unconvinced pout. “What about the lyrics for that new song of yours?”

Chanyeol shook his head. Baekhyun hadn’t been able to write down a single line, so they’d decided to leave the song as instrumental. That, however, wasn’t what was making Chanyeol so nervous. It was how much Baekhyun’s mood had plummeted during the last few days. No matter how many times they told him it didn’t matter, he was just angry at himself.

“I wonder if he’ll be able to play today,” Chanyeol murmured with a long exhale.

“He’ll be fine,” Yoora reassured as she squeezed Chanyeol’s shoulder lightly.

He walked back in with a heavy heart, stopped by the leader of the band that was supposed to play before them. He was a little older than them, Chanyeol had never seen him and his orange hair was intimidating to the least, but he smiled cordially when Chanyeol met his eyes. “I was wondering if we could buy you a bit more time before our stage?”

The guy raised an eyebrow, then shot a quick look towards Baekhyun and the others. “Your second guitar doesn’t look too well,” he noted, perplexed. “We can manage two more songs, I hope it’s ok.”

Chanyeol nodded, then bowed a couple of times walking backwards.

“What did he say, Hyung?” Sehun asked standing up. He was bracing his bass and his hair was half covering his face— it was an attempt to look mysterious, he’d explained earlier.

“They’ll play two more songs so we can have a little more time. And...there’s nothing much to do, we can either go instrumental for Baekhyun’s song or we don’t play it and...we think about what to replace it with.” Chanyeol paused to look down to Baekhyun. “Hyun-ah, are you ok?”

Baekhyun raised his head slowly. He’d bleached his hair platinum blonde and Sehun had styled them away from his face in a messy attempt to a wave with tons of hairspray and lots of gel. He wasn’t wearing his glasses and he’d thrown on a leather jacket he’d apparently borrowed from Kyungsoo. Chanyeol hadn’t been able to look away when he’d seen him.

“Are you ok?” Kyungsoo repeated as Baekhyun focused on Chanyeol.

The guitarist shook his head slowly. “I’m sorry, I know it was my responsibility but I just couldn’t write a thing.”

“It’s fine hyung,” Sehun reached out to drape his arm around Baekhyun’s shoulder. “We have more songs to play anyway.”

“I’d suggest we drop Baekhyun’s song altogether to be honest. It doesn’t even have a title. Or we could keep it for last, as a small bonus? What do you say?”

“It makes sense,” Chanyeol nodded, trying to ignore Baekhyun’s gaze on him. He looked betrayed, disappointed. He was biting on the side of his lip, hard. Chanyeol breathed in and concentrated on Kyungsoo. “We’ll go with the covers first and then see how the reaction is. If it’s good, we play that one for last. Call it _untitled_ or something.”

Kyungsoo agreed with a hum and a frown.

“It sucks,” Baekhyun clipped— he was clutching at his guitar with enough strength to have the strings snap.

“Baekhyun-ah...It’s our first performance with you, alright? You can write the lyrics until next time. It’s fine,” Chanyeol said, trying to keep his calm.

There was something unsolved in Baekhyun’s past, wounds that had never healed properly. The song only reopened them, tying Baekhyun down to the memories, the feelings for his failed love. It wasn’t his fault, it was nobody’s fault.

“It’s _not_ fine, alright?” Baekhyun snapped, meeting Chanyeol’s eyes.

He was bitter, angry. There was a certain desperation to his voice that Chanyeol had never heard before and it caught him, froze him in place. Baekhyun, with his almost white hair and that hardness in his eyes was beautiful and terrifying at the same time.

“You always said you wanted to play my song. _You_ were the one insisting that I could do it. Where did that go, huh?” Baekhyun stood up and pushed Chanyeol with enough strength to make him stumble a couple of steps backwards.

“You keep saying that it’s ok, that I can sing next time but we don’t even know if there will be a fucking next time, Chanyeol-ah.” Baekhyun’s voice was loud enough for everyone around them to hear. Chanyeol felt his cheeks go red, and it wasn’t because he was flustered, this time, it was because he was embarrassed and mad.

“So what, ah?” He lowered his head with a frown. “So what do you propose, Hyun-ah? We go there and improvise?” He opened his arms in defeat. “We can’t help it, that song is not ready!”

“I…” Baekhyun breathed in, lowering his gaze to the ground. His knuckles were white from how hard he was clinging onto his Gibson. “I don’t know. I don’t know but you said I shouldn’t give up, you...You brought me all the way here, goddamnit, and now you tell me _next time.”_

Kyungsoo and Sehun alternated alarmed looks from one to the other, but they kept silent, probably sensing how much worse the mood would get if they tried to interfere. Chanyeol looked away.

“What do you want me to do then? Tell me, Baekhyun-ah. I’m listening,” Chanyeol tried once more, but it must’ve seeped through his voice how not calm he was, how ready he was to snap as well.

Baekhyun’s lips pressed into a line and he unslung his guitar. “Fuck off,” he muttered and pressed the guitar to Chanyeol’s chest. Chanyeol caught it before it could drop to the ground and turned around to see Baekhyun zigzag through the other players, towards the exit.

“Where the hell is he going now?” Chanyeol asked to no one in particular. He turned around to leave the Gibson to Kyungsoo.

“He’s nervous, Yeol-ah. And he’s feeling like shit because he couldn’t write,” Kyungsoo commented with a sigh.

“I know, but we’re all in the same shit. We’re a group why-” Chanyeol groaned, going back to munching on the side of his thumb. “I’m not mad at him, but I really don’t know how to help him...There’s nothing to be done if we don’t have the lyrics.”

Sehun shrugged from where he was sitting next to Kyungsoo. “I think he knows...He’s just mad at everything now.”

Chanyeol didn’t say anything else, as he walked away from his bandmates. He left the backstage and looked around in the crowd gathered in the venue with no avail. There wasn’t enough time to check the bathrooms, so he headed straight outside through the back door where Jiho and him used to smoke, back when he was still in the band.

It was the best place to hide, since most people tended to just smoke a cigarette there and mind their own business.  
  
Baekhyun was there indeed, sitting on the stairs right outside the door. He was staring at nothing, his breath short.

“Baekhyun-ah,” Chanyeol called at first. “I’m sorry, I…”

Baekhyun didn’t react and Chanyeol went to sit next to him with a hoof. “Hyun-ah, can you look at me for a moment?”

Baekhyun slowly dragged his eyes to meet Chanyeol’s— he was biting on the inside of his cheek, his hands closed in fists on his lap.

Chanyeol had always seen Baekhyun as a dissonant melody— a guitar out of tune. Chanyeol wasn’t sure he could make that melody right, mend Baekhyun’s heart and heal his scars, but no matter what, he would try.

 _I want to sing with you_ he’d said. He couldn’t give up after all they’d been through.

“Baekhyun-ah I love your voice,” he blurted out, not sure how to start what he wanted to say. “I love your voice and I love your song. Even when you mess up the words and scream into the microphone and it doesn’t make any sense.”

Baekhyun’s lips curled up in a faint smile— a bit sad, a bit broken but a smile at least. “Look at you...are you actually trying to be nice to me?”

Chanyeol snorted and hit him lightly on the back. “I’m always nice to you,” Chanyeol noted. Baekhyun laughed a breathy laugh, then hung his head low in silence.

The alleyway was empty except the trash cans towards the end of it and the cigarette butts on the floor. Chanyeol kicked one with the point of his shoe— it was his first time being in that alleyway without a cigarette between his fingers.

“Baekhyun-ah…” He started, knitting his brows together trying to find the right words to express his thoughts properly. “Honestly I’ve been a mess since you’ve come around. I can’t play like before and your voice...your sound, I don’t know. They drive me completely insane. I’ve never felt this restless in my life but…” He paused, Baekhyun glanced up at him. “I’ve never enjoyed doing music as much as I do when you’re there,” he breathed out.

“Cheesy,” Baekhyun said, but he didn’t sound angry anymore.

“What I’m trying to say is...” Chanyeol cleared his voice and stood up. “Do you want us to play your song instrumental?”  
  
Baekhyun nodded slightly. Chanyeol reached out with his hand for Baekhyun to catch and he hesitated a little, but he did in the end and Chanyeol pulled him up. “Then let’s go play it. What do you say?”

Chanyeol didn’t know if he could mend Baekhyun’s heart or heal his scars and he slowly realized he had no control over that. Baekhyun had to get closure and the only way he could do it was by facing his demons by himself. What he could do, was make sure that Baekhyun would keep enjoying music and playing, because he was dead sure that’s what Baekhyun was born to do.

 

Going back inside meant that Kyungsoo and Sehun appeared out of nowhere holding both Chanyeol and Baekhyun’s guitars.

“We’d better get ready, we’re the second group to perform, and the first one has started already,” Kyungsoo warned, half dragging Chanyeol towards the backstage as Sehun mumbled stuff to Baekhyun in the back.

“Will he play?” Kyungsoo asked, stopping for a moment with a hand on Chanyeol’s chest to stop him. Chanyeol nodded curtly.

“He’s calmed down.” He didn’t give more explanation than that. It wasn’t the right moment nor the right place to discuss about it. Plus Chanyeol wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to repeat the conversation he’d just had with Baekhyun to anyone else.

The guy taking care of the line up appeared on the doorstep yelling _Housewives you’re next!_ and Chanyeol could almost tangibly feel the tension start to pile up again.

They gathered near the door leading to the front of the venue, where the steps of the stage were. Sehun was trying to calm his nerves while listening to music with his earbuds in. Kyungsoo just stood next with his eyes fixed on the small strip of stage that was visible through the door left ajar.

Baekhyun was holding on to his Gibson behind Chanyeol, shifting his weight from one foot to the other every few seconds. At some point he leaned in until Chanyeol felt the singer’s forehead rest against his back and his nose poke through the fabric.

“I think I’m gonna piss myself before I get on that stage,” Chanyeol heard him murmur— a middle way between amused and terrified. He sighed before reaching backwards blindly until Baekhyun grabbed his hand and Chanyeol squeezed it.

“I’m dying too,” he confessed, but when he looked back and met Baekhyun’s eyes he made sure to be grinning.

The group ahead of them was playing some Skid Row covers. Kyungsoo recognized the cue to the last song, and touched Sehun’s arm, then Chanyeol’s. “Let’s get ready, guys,” he said, as the crowd outside erupted into a jumble of screams and applauses and the other group started to slowly come back inside.

It was their turn and Chanyeol felt his hands shake as he held on his Stratocaster and climbed up on stage. The cheap stage lights Paradise Dust could offer never felt this bright. Chanyeol looked beyond them, trying to recognize any familiar face in the crowd: his sister, Shiah, even Jongdeok. He was so nervous he could only see unknown faces.

He swallowed and it was like swallowing his own heart.

He got to his usual position behind the microphone, only this time he wasn’t in the center but rather to the side. Baekhyun was on his right and Sehun next to him. Kyungsoo watched them all from the back. Chanyeol could tell Sehun and Kyungsoo weren’t the calmest they’d ever been, but when his eyes lingered on Baekhyun he had to make an effort to hide his grimace.

Baekhyun was staring at his own hands clutching the microphone. He looked… _lost_.

Chanyeol tapped the microphone a couple of times to make sure it worked, then put on the most natural smile he could manage. “We’re The Housewives and we’ll keep you company for a while tonight. Let’s try to have some fun, shall we?”

The crowd exploded in a much louder cheer than Chanyeol had expected. It made him feel vaguely safe knowing they had a supportive public.

He turned round to throw a glance to Kyungsoo first, then Sehun and they both nodded. When he got to Baekhyun’s, though, he realized something wasn’t going to go as planned.

Baekhyun’s eyes were open wide and his gaze was lost somewhere in the darkness ahead of them. Chanyeol was just going to step closer to him to break that daze, whisper a word of encouragement, but before he could do it, Baekhyun took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

Chanyeol thought he was going to scream, but no, he was singing.

you know how long this eclipse feels?  
_our hands are not enough to keep us warm, you know,  
_ in these terrible black dawns

 

.

 

_Kisses._

_You liked sleepy, slow kisses the most. The kind of kisses that woke you up with the sun seeping through the curtains in Junki hyung’s room. They were kisses that tasted bad and you complained about them, hiding your face in Junki’s shoulder and asking to sleep some more when, really, you were awake._

_You liked lazy afternoons, when your eyes followed the fan turning round and round in one corner of the room and it was so hot that you didn’t know where your skin finished and Junki’s started but everything was sticky and you hated it. But you loved it nonetheless, when Junki would read some passages from books too difficult for you to understand, about topics you’d never heard of._

_You loved those afternoons when Junki would read Marx and then explain it to you, ask you what you thought about it and tried to make you think, when all you really wanted was more kisses, more skin._

_The guitar had been left in one corner to gather dust, along with all those cassettes you used to borrow and listen to over and over, when you were twelve and Junki was the guy who came home to see your brother and not the guy you kissed, nor the guy you loved._

_Some other group had rented the room for rehearsals and Junki rarely talked about music anymore. If he did, it was to praise classical music and pieces you’d learned when you still went to piano classes; your fingers still remembered them as you pretended to play them on the sheets in those hot, lazy afternoons._

_Junki had started to use big words you didn’t fully understand: democracy, socialism, freedom, justice. They were the words your father used, the words Baekbeom had started to use too. They seemed to spread like a cancer as the streets filled up with students marching under their flag. You lost Junki hyung in that crowd multiple times and you got lost in that crowd too._

_Kisses._

_It was all you could think about during your final exams as you glanced out the window. Kisses that tasted salty like sweat and sweet like candies._

_When your brother had sat you down to a chair and had told you to calm down, because he had to tell you something about Junki hyung, you tried to remember when you had kissed him last and you realized you couldn’t._

_When Baekbeom said you wouldn’t see Junki hyung anymore it felt like a bad joke._

_You blamed those big words, the crowd where you’d lost him; you even blamed yourself, though you were never sure why he decided he’d had enough of his life._

_You and your brother went into Junki hyung’s room after a month or so. It still smelled like him. It still looked like he’d been there ten minutes before: the books scattered on the floor and the perfectly pointed pencils on the desk. Baekbeom asked if you wanted to keep anything, that Junki’s mother had given permission._

_You were still so angry at him, at the world, at those books on the floor that you thought you wanted nothing._

_Then your eyes stopped on the guitar against the wall._

_Cherry red body, rusty strings._

_Then, that question, the voiced he asked it with and his posture— as if he didn’t really wanted to talk to you. It all came back to mind._

_“Do you like music?” Junki had asked._

 

.

 

Baekhyun stopped singing for a moment. He was panting. His lips grazing the microphone and both hands clutching it as if it was a lifeline— the sound of his breath amplified through the speakers.

The audience was mute, collectively holding their breath like in a pause before a crescendo. Their faces couldn’t be seen beyond the brightness of the stage, contrasting with the darkness in the pit, but their silence was louder than a crashing applause.

Chanyeol was petrified. He’d recognized the melody immediately.

It was his song. No, it was _their_ song.

They had decided to play it towards the end of their performance, as a bonus piece for the audience but Baekhyun had jumped off the cliff on his own and he was now waiting for everyone else to catch up.

Chanyeol thought for a moment how much what just happened, fit perfectly within Baekhyun’s persona. Baekhyun always flew solo, no matter if it was life or music or the song they’d all composed together.

Only, Baekhyun wouldn’t be alone this time.

Sehun and Kyungsoo watched him as he stepped back slightly putting trembling fingers on the frets. He messed up the first note as he strummed and Chanyeol felt his heart constrict a little. Baekhyun looked possessed and terrified at the same time, powerful and fragile.

Chanyeol took one sharp intake of breath and his own hands went to the strings automatically, like some primordial memory embedded into his body and he let the music flow with the first strum, then the second, the melody intertwining with the hesitant notes of Baekhyun’s guitar; Chanyeol’s sound made Baekhyun’s stronger, more decisive and when Baekhyun stepped forward leaning into the microphone and finally opened his eyes, Chanyeol knew it was perfect.

 _Don’t leave me, I will stay under this cursed eclipse_ Baekhyun sang, picking the strings along with such abandon and desperation that it didn’t matter how unprecise the sound was and how each note wasn’t stable. _No matter how dark, how cold. Your memories are not enough to heal me anymore,_ he continued, his left hand going to grab the stick of the mic—angry, frustrated.

Baekhyun’s voice, how passionate he sounded and how each word sounded like a weight he wanted to get rid of, it shook Chanyeol to the core. Whatever Baekhyun was feeling, Chanyeol was feeling too. The fear, the feeling of betrayal and the pain. Chanyeol hadn’t even noticed that Kyungsoo had come in with the drums as the song reached the refrain, and that Sehun’s bass notes were giving the song new depth.

He glanced up for a moment, as Baekhyun screamed before in the repetition of the chorus.

It wasn’t only him. The audience was feeling it too and some of them were staring, too surprised to cheer for them. Some other people, though, hyped Baekhyun and screamed with him when he did.

 _You know how long this eclipse feels?_ Baekhyun asked again. He lowered his head and laughed bitterly— it echoed in the room. Some girls in the pit screamed in response. Chanyeol’s heart tripped— a syncopated rhythm— as his fingers glided on the tabs and he strummed to his heart’s content.

Kyungsoo’s rhythm changed slightly to something deeper and slower and when Chanyeol looked at him he noticed how absorbed he was in the music. Sehun’s fringe was covering his eyes, but he was improvising as usual, better than usual.

It was a song about a heartbreak, about longing and nostalgia. It was also anger and desperation, it was Baekhyun trying to show his scars, to burn them away singing. Chanyeol could see them, he could see how still wounded Baekhyun was and how his past was still there hunting him— the wrong soundtrack, dissonant.

Baekhyun threw himself in the second verse almost by instinct. He wasn’t paying attention to his guitar anymore— his fingers were moving by muscle memory. Chanyeol couldn’t take his eyes off him, he couldn’t stop thinking how beautiful Baekhyun looked right then, in the brightness of the stage and a sheen of sweat on the bridge of his nose.

 _As an amulet, I keep your soul in my pocket_ Baekhyun half whispered in the microphone, like a secret. He closed his eyes and rested his forehead on it as Chanyeol’s cue came for his solo.

The audience exploded when Chanyeol stepped forward with his Stratocaster and he bent the melody, he twisted it until it didn’t make sense anymore and it wasn’t even similar to what he’d jutted on that piece of papers weeks before. He let Baekhyun’s feeling become one with his, he tried to convey those emotion and dilute them with his own jealousy, uncertainty.  
  
Baekhyun had loved before, Baekhyun still loved with his whole being, with each breath, each pang of pain and Chanyeol could no nothing, he could only pick those strings and strum. He could only hope Baekhyun felt his helplessness, his own private scream.

Baekhyun was singing of the past, of darkness engulfing light and hands that felt cold even if he was holding them. Chanyeol could tell Baekhyun felt lonely. _I’m miserable_ , he’d said once. Those words were burning in the back of Chanyeol’s mind as he played, shifting to a much slower rhythm as they entered the last refrain and Kyungsoo joined him, sustaining his notes, creating a unison voice.

Baekhyun seemed to break out of his daze as he sang the first words of the refrain; he looked down at his hands, then glanced at the audience. His whole face was saying _I’m making a mess_ , contrasting to the confidence he’d played with until that moment.

He turned around to meet Chanyeol’s eyes worryingly and he suddenly looked so soft and out of place on that stage that it melted Chanyeol’s heart a little— Baekhyun wasn’t a dissonant melody, after all, no. He was calm, piano music and he was a desperate guitar cry. He was lovely.

Chanyeol smiled at him reassuringly and hinted with a flick of his head to just keep playing, that he was doing well. Baekhyun was doing incredibly well; he was lonely, desperate and wounded but he was so so brave.

Chanyeol had forgotten how overwhelmingly scary but also incredibly fun being on a stage was. He’d forgotten the _fun_ in music, the fact that he could just let everything go and let the music guide him, fill in every gap in his soul, envelop him whole and spit him out reborn. It was such a simple thing and yet so exhilarating, energizing.

He’d forgotten what it meant, how it felt and now it was like falling in love with that emotion all over again when who he was really in love with was Baekhyun. Always Baekhyun.

_He felt like screaming._

 

There were more cheers, applauses and whistles from the public as they entered the final part of the song and Baekhyun started singing again, this time with Chanyeol’s voice backing him up with the main tune as Baekhyun variated what he’d sung until that moment with higher notes until they reached the very end and Kyungsoo was the one in charge of closing the song.

He did with some percussive frenzy and his last beat coincided with the bittersweet end of the song.

“This was ‘Of cold dark days’ for you,” Baekhyun said smoothly in the microphone as all he’d done in his life was being part of a band. “I hope you appreciated it. We are the Housewives, and we’ll keep you company with a few more songs tonight, what do you guys think?”

The audience screamed and since the light of the stage had subdued a little, Chanyeol could recognize some of the faces in the crowd. Everyone looked euphoric; Kyungsoo was smiling behind his drum kit and even Sehun had sleeked his hair back and was fighting a much brighter smile than what he was sporting then.

Chanyeol saw all of that and more: the mess of cords on the floor, the group of people entering Paradise Dust right that moment. However all he could really focus on was his own deafening heartbeat and Baekhyun in his leather jacket and ripped jeans. Baekhyun’s white t-shirt following the lines of his body underneath the leather.

He swallowed and prayed that his expression wouldn’t give him away as Baekhyun turned around and looked at him with this bright, dazzling smile. It was like he hadn’t just sung about heartbreak and loneliness, as if he’d gotten rid of any negative emotion weighing on him. He looked light, he glowed.

He moved a couple of steps towards Chanyeol, unplugging his guitar. Chanyeol reached out with an arm and waited until he could wrap it around Baekhyun’s shoulders and drag him away from the roaring crowd, away from the bright lights. He had no idea what he was doing, his brain wasn’t working and he was letting euphoria lead.

He could see Sehun’s alarmed expression as they stumbled away and Chanyeol forced Baekhyun’s head lower so he could nuzzle on his crown with a smile— Baekhyun’s freshly dyed hair prickling his nose.

Baekhyun started blabbering, resting a closed hand on Chanyeol’s chest as Chanyeol pulled him in for an embrace once they were in the shadows. “I don’t know what that was I…” He laughed breathily and leaned in until his forehead was on Chanyeol’s shoulder. “I just walked up there and I knew what do say, what to sing,” he added, his voice muffled by Chanyeol’s shirt.

_Chanyeol loved him, he was in love with him._

Chanyeol chortled, then pushed Baekhyun’s guitar away so that it was latched onto Baekhyun’s side rather than front. He didn’t know what to say, feelings washing over him and and leaving him breathless.

“Thank you, I wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for you,” Baekhyun kept going, an unstoppable river. “Thank you,” he said again. Chanyeol couldn’t hold it in anymore, he would implode otherwise. He couldn’t resist it anymore.

His hand reached for Baekhyun’s jaw on instinct and when Baekhyun looked up and met his eyes it was silence all around. He smiled faintly, only half confused. Baekhyun had always been smart anyway, and Chanyeol felt exposed once more.

He didn’t hesitate to lean in, though, and Baekhyun didn’t push him away as Chanyeol kissed him with all the desperation and sweetness he was capable of. Baekhyun kissed him back but there was hunger in his kiss, in the way his lips moved slowly along the seam of Chanyeol’s and he caressed Chanyeol’s cheekbone, his temple.

Chanyeol retreated, just a moment, and Baekhyun closed the distance between them one more time and kissed him again, fleeting and soft this time, lingering there. He kissed with hooded eyes, Chanyeol noticed as his hand glided down the curve of Baekhyun’s neck.

“We should go back,” Baekhyun whispered against Chanyeol’s lips and Chanyeol swallowed dryly.

“Yeah, you did well,” he croaked back. “Let’s go play some more.” It was Baekhyun the one to grab his hand and drag him back on stage just as Kyungsoo was starting to show signs of panic.

The crowd roared again in screams as Baekhyun grabbed the microphone again. “Missed us? Eheh” He asked cheerfully with his stupid laugh. “Hope you liked our last song, guys. The next one is a Pearl Jam cover, it’s called Black. Do you know it? I think you do.”

He retreated, only to lean in again and murmur. “Enjoy,” with such charisma and confidence that even Chanyeol felt his neck go warm.

Baekhyun threw him a glance, flirty but sweet as Chanyeol started the song strumming an E chord. This was Chanyeol’s song and he was supposed to sing it but Baekhyun’s lips were on the mic again and he started _Sheets of empty canvas, untouched sheets of clay…_

Chanyeol was in love with the music, with the stage, with his guitar.

He was also in love with Baekhyun.

He stepped forward and grunted in the microphone at the same time as Baekhyun did. They look at each other and jumped in the song together.

 _And now my bitter hands chafe beneath the clouds of what was everything._ _  
_ _Oh, the pictures have all been washed in black, tattooed everything…_

 

.

 

People lingered around the stage after the event was over. It was mostly groups of people chatting the bands up, sneaking name cards inside pockets; someone was leaving, some other was slumped on the bar, asking for another drink.

Kyungsoo and Sehun had been caught in a conversation with a friend of Kyungsoo, some producer apparently, according to what Yoora had whispered in Chanyeol’s ear when she’d seen him stumble out of the backstage like a drunk soul. He would’ve joined them, if his sister hadn’t dragged him to meet some of the sunbaes she wanted to impress— Chanyeol hadn’t known how to say no to her.

Chanyeol had no idea who these people he was bowing to were, but he replied to their questions and smiled when he was required to. He was distracted, he’d been distracted since the end of their stage. He’d stared at Baekhyun more than accepted by conventions and hadn’t found one good excuse to sit next to him and grab his hand.

They’d sneaked out to the pit eventually, to watch the other bands perform. Baekhyun had stayed in front of him all the time, in the crowd, and Chanyeol had even put his hands on his shoulders at some point, guiding him closer to the first row when a particularly talented group was performing.

After that Baekhyun had vanished into thin air and Chanyeol had grown even more restless since then.

“I hear from Park Yoora here that you recently changed guitarist,” some guy said, giving his voice the inflection of a question. The others nodded, as if agreeing with him.

“Yes, he’s a new entry. He’s only been playing for a few months, but he’s quite good,” Chanyeol replied almost defensively. He knew Baekhyun had messed up most of his guitar during their first song. The second part of the performance had gone quite smoothly and Baekhyun had enough charisma to make up for the few mistakes here and there.

The crowd had adored every single joke he made in between songs and even they had laughed on stage with him.

“He was surprisingly good, for a newbie,” some guy noted, from Chanyeol’s left.

“His guitar was strangely familiar.”

That had Chanyeol freeze and meet eyes with the girl who’d said it. He didn’t recognize her and he didn’t know what to say to that. He laughed an uncomfortable laugh and hoped for people not to misunderstand it as rudeness. “It’s not a common model, but it’s available in the stores, I guess…” he let the sentence drop, and the girl shrugged.

“I guess. I knew someone who had the same guitar, from High School,” she added, but that’s how the conversation ended.

“Can’t we meet the other guitarist too?” the same guy from earlier asked, looking around, probably trying to find Baekhyun’s blonde head in the small groups of people who hadn’t left yet.

Chanyeol mirrored the guy’s movement, then hummed hesitant. “I haven’t seen him, either, actually. You know, maybe I should go find him, and bring him here so you can meet him,” He gestured to his back with his thumb, then searched for Yoora’s gaze for approval.

She seemed to know that Chanyeol had no intention of coming back and that looking for Baekhyun was just his excuse to escape this interrogation, but she didn’t seem to mind. She flapped her hand and Chanyeol bowed to all the people present before turning around and walking away as fast as he could.

He walked past Kyungsoo, Sehun and the producer twins Yoora had talked about on his way out. He didn’t head for the usual back alley where he’d talked to Baekhyun earlier, though. He was so ready for a cigarette but so not ready for people, he thought as he searched for his tobacco pouch in the pocket of the zip up hoodie he’d thrown on after the performance.

Clients of Paradise Dust were still gathered outside the door of the venue as Chanyeol walked out turning right to a less populated corner to smoke his cigarette in peace, then maybe collect his stuff and leave. He’d have a lot to think about, that night.

He was taking the first drag from his cigarette when he stopped suddenly, hearing Baekhyun’s voice from around the corner. He must’ve been sitting on the bicycle parking supports in the next alleyway, Chanyeol assumed. He almost walked in on him, but he waited, hearing another voice following Baekhyun’s— a voice that sounded familiar.

“Junki hyung always played for you, didn’t he? Before he hung the guitar on the wall, that is,” the voice was saying. Chanyeol was almost sure it was the voice of the same guy who’d waited for Baekhyun under the hasukjib. _His name’s Jongdae,_ Baekhyun had said.

Baekhyun’s laugh reverberated in the narrow street but it wasn’t a completely carefree one. “Yeah, he did. That’s the thing, though-”

Baekhyun couldn’t finish, Jongdae interrupted his sentence. “You never wanted him to play for you. You always wanted him to play _with_ you. You’ve always wanted to make music, you idiot.” The sound of a playful slap on someone’s shoulder followed, along with Baekhyun’s groan of pain.

Chanyeol took another drag of his cigarette, looking up to the streetlamp just above him.

“I guess,” Baekhyun replied, his voice just a tad lower. “I was always the one struggling to follow him around, I don’t know how he didn’t tell me to go to hell, at some point.”

It was Jongdae’s turn to laugh, as Chanyeol went to lean against the next building’s wall, his head low. “Are you kidding? Hyung didn’t like anyone but you. He always looked like he was under torture when he had to meet new people, at least before University.” Jongdae paused and sighed. “He knew you liked music, he knew you wanted to be on stage.”

“But…?”

“I don’t know, Baekhyun-ah. You knew hyung better than I did. What I know for sure is that...he did look at you.”

Baekhyun snorted breathily once more. “I knew him? I never knew what he was thinking. I spent my adolescence being terrified of what he could think.”

Chanyeol’s stomach contracted in a sick twist and he suddenly didn’t feel like smoking anymore.

“Dae-yah, how was the stage?” Baekhyun asked almost shy. Chanyeol couldn’t see his face but he’d heard that tone so many times that he could draw Baekhyun’s features by heart

“It sucked, man. You were cringy bad. What was that ting-ting-ting you were doing with that guitar? The guitar was crying, _I_ was crying. Man, get your shit together please.” A small pause. “How do your bandmates even put up with you?”

There was silence for a moment, then a violent smack echoed.

“SHIT!” It was Jongdae’s voice. Chanyeol almost snorted— he didn’t feel even a tiny bit sorry for the guy.

“Asshole,” Baekhyun said, and silence followed again for a while. “I loved being there, on stage. It was...fun, it was exhausting and terrifying but- Dae-yah I think I’ve never liked something so much in my life.”

It must’ve been such an important confession to make; Baekhyun sounded so confused and at the same time like he’d had some kind of revelation.

“It’s good, then,” Jongdae reassured soon after. “It’s good, isn’t it? All you have to do now is work hard, our Baekhyunie.”

“Yeah, wonderful useless piece of advice Kim Jongdae, thank you.” Another long silence followed and Chanyeol was just about to leave when Baekhyun spoke again.

“Dae I...don’t know if I’ll ever love someone else like I loved Junki hyung. But I have someone that I like, now.”

Chanyeol froze and swallowed, unsure how to react to that statement.

“Well, that’s good too. And you never know, maybe you don’t have to love them as you loved him. You’re different from years ago, Byun Baekhyun.” Jongdae must’ve ruffled his hair or something because Chanyeol heard Baekhyun’s fumbling steps on the ground. “Let yourself love again, and it’ll be fine, I’m sure.”  
  
“Whatever, love expert,” Baekhyun joked.

Chanyeol inhaled deeply and threw the cigarette to the ground.


	11. Track 10

**Track 10**

 

The school recording studio where Kyungsoo usually worked out their tracks wasn’t that different from a real recording studio, except that everything in there had at least ten to twenty years and it needed some update really badly. Aside from that, Chanyeol even preferred it to the Chemistry Club classroom— the recording studio had its own charms, and part of those may have been amplified by Chanyeol’s passion for music.

He was sitting on one of the wooden chairs next to Yoona as Kyungsoo got her some tea and some cola for Chanyeol.

“Is this guy gonna come or was it all a prank?” Kyungsoo asked handing Yoona her tea in a paper cup. He sat down next to Chanyeol, just in a leather chair instead of the wooden ones he’d taken out for Yoona and Chanyeol to sit.

“He’ll be here, he’s just a bit…” Yoona took a sip of her tea, as if contemplating on the right word to use. “How to say...He’s a bit peculiar.” Chanyeol didn’t even want to linger on the meaning of that word used by Yoona. He’d had a rough night himself, he really didn’t need any more stress than that.

“As long as he’s filmed the live show,” Kyungsoo shrugged and he leaned back into the leather chair. “I didn’t know you were there, Noona.”

Yoona nodded before taking another sip of her tea. “I came in a little late, just in time to hear Baekhyunie scream into the microphone.” She paused, eyeing the door as if expecting to see something through the small glass window on it, but there was no one to be seen.

“What did you think about it, Noona?” Chanyeol questioned, all hunched forward on his chair— elbows on his knees, cola in one hand. “Baekhyunie’s stage for that song you’re talking about hadn’t...really been prepared,” he confessed and Kyungsoo nodded in agreement.

Yoona stared at her tea for a few seconds, frowning. “Well...first, about the other songs,” she started setting the paper cup aside. “I think those were much better with Baekhyun there. And when I heard the two of you sing together…” Yoona met Chanyeol’s eyes at this point. “Why exactly have you never sang with Jiho, back when he was in the band? Two vocalists is so much better than only one, and you seem to have so much more fun, ParkChan.”

Chanyeol chortled shaking his head. He crossed one leg over the other and stretched his arms in the air. It was a good question and he didn’t have an exact answer for that. “I’m not sure, to be honest. Jiho never liked to sing, or he was too shy, I don’t know.”

“Woo Jiho and the word shy in the same sentence doesn’t make much sense,” Kyungsoo commented lightly from the side.

Chanyeol smiled with a shrug. He thought of Jiho and the disgust in his voice, months earlier. He wondered what he would’ve said, knowing that Chanyeol wasn’t that different from Baekhyun. That he liked Baekhyun to the point of losing his mind, of losing control and kissing him.

“The real reason is that Jiho’s voice is not that good for singing,” Kyungsoo added, towards Yoona. “But we all really liked Baekhyun’s voice, and that makes up for his being a bit of a newbie with his guitar.”

Yoona hummed, her eyes went to the ground. Chanyeol’s eyes were fixed on her and stayed there for a while, until she took a small breath.

“About the other performance, instead, I was very surprised and...somehow I expected that outcome.” She laughed to herself, shaking her head and scratching something off her cheek. “I’m not making sense. What I’m trying to say is that...I was there watching and I felt like screaming too. I was surprised, because it was an energy that was definitely not mine, but I was feeling it anyway.”

Chanyeol knew perfectly well what Yoona was talking about, because it was likely that the whole room had felt it. Baekhyun’s passion, his pain and anger. The sense of betrayal, the feeling of suffocating while being pushed underwater. All of that Baekhyun had shared; he’d gotten rid of the walls around them, of the masks to hide his scars. He’d thrown all of that to the audience and had rendered himself vulnerable and invincible at the same time.

“We were quite surprised too,” Kyungsoo concluded, however surprised wasn’t the exact word, there.

“I think I cut Himchan oppa’s circulation considering how hard I was holding his hand. It was overwhelming for me off stage. I can only imagine how scary it must’ve been for him, alone on that stage. Somehow...I understood, what he wanted to tell us.” Yoona’s hands went to rest on her lap, she played with the hem of her cardigan.

“You can listen to it again during our next Liveshow, if we manage to get one. I guess Bang PD wants to show the entire performance to other producers, rather than a simple demo of the song. Which by the way, it’s better to have one recorded by a professional, ours is...quite amatorial.” Kyungsoo explained as Chanyeol’s pager vibrated inside his pocket.

It was Sehun’s home number. He pressed the delete button twice and the little numbers on the screen disappeared just in time for the door to open to some guy wearing the university varsity jacket and a pair of very ripped jeans.

“Hey, sorry I got lost on the way here. I’d never been to the school recording studio before, it’s cool!” He moved a couple of steps inside and bowed, as Chanyeol and Kyungsoo stood up to bow too.

“Is there one time in your life when you won’t be late, Lee Jaehwan,” Yoona scolded not even bothering to stand up. “Have you brought the stuff?”

Lee Jaehwan nodded and introduced himself briefly to both Chanyeol and Kyungsoo after they’d done the same. He took a cassette out of his bag, a regular video cassette with a few labels sticked on it. Jaehwan scratched his nose when he noticed Kyungsoo being a little perplexed. “I didn’t have any new cassette, this is just my part time job but Yoona noona asked, so…”

Chanyeol took the tape himself and fumbled a little with the video cassette recorder in the room. The TV screen flickered a little, and then the video started. Jaehwan had apparently cut it from when they came up on stage.

“I’ve tried to make the sound a little less... you know... Lots of people screaming, the echo- It didn’t sound so pretty at first but I managed to fix it,” Jaehwan explained as he folded his arms on his chest and looked at the screen with a satisfied grin.

“Wow.” Chanyeol couldn’t stop looking at the screen. It was a completely different perspective from being on that stage playing, there was a different charm to it. However when Baekhyun started singing the chorus of their song acapella in the silence of the crowd, Chanyeol got goosebumps all over again. He needed to avert his gaze, it was too overwhelming.

“Shit,” Kyungsoo cursed, then he laughed rubbing his forearms. “It didn’t sound so cool when I was on stage. I thought we’d fucked up but remind me to kiss Byun Baekhyun on the mouth next time, this is so damn cool.”

“It is, right?” Jaehwan said, all hyped. “I liked the other performances but yours was the best, I think. That guy, the vocalist in the center. Who is he? Where did you find him?”

Chanyeol didn’t reply, his eyes slowly going back to the TV screen as Baekhyun started to sing, this time with Chanyeol and the others following him along.

“He found them, according to what Park Chanyeol said,” Yoona joked around, but she sounded just as enthusiastic as Jaehwan. “I think he’s made himself quite the number of fangirls already,” she continued and Chanyeol caught an amused hue to her tone.

“I started the editing and everything as soon as I got home because you guys were so good. It didn’t even take me so long because I was so into it that I wanted it to be perfect, ya know?” Jaehwan said and he scrunched up his nose. “I’m pretty curious about what you’re gonna do from now on, though. Are you thinking of making a contract with some studio?”

Chanyeol bit the inside of his cheek and turned around to look at Jaehwan while the Housewives finished the first song and Chanyeol started dragging Baekhyun behind the black panels dividing the sides of the stage from the pit. He felt his cheeks turn red for a moment and hoped the others didn’t notice.

He cleared his voice. “The Bang twins have showed some interest in the band, or so it seemed. They didn’t assure anything yet though, right?”

Kyungsoo nodded. “It’s still very uncertain, but we are planning to meet them again and see how it goes.”

Jaehwan nodded in understanding. Baekhyun on the screen started their first cover song and laughed in the microphone at some point. Then Chanyeol joined him for the chorus and the melody unraveled. The crowd’s cheers were still quite audible in the recording, Jaehwan had only manage to lower them a little and still Chanyeol looked at the TV and it baffled him how much they looked like a real rock band.

They were having fun with each other and with the crowd, they were making good music. He’d told Jiho making music for a living wasn’t worth it, months earlier, on that night when Jiho had left. However looking at the screen he realized how much he’d changed his mind about it. _It was worth it_ , all of it, if he was gonna feel that euphoria again.

“I hope you guys make it and get a decent contract,” Jaehwan shared. “Also, maybe consider about changing your name? Queen works because it’s them, but I believe you should go with something more effective than The Housewives, if you get what I mean.”

That took Chanyeol aback, and he raised his gaze to meet with Kyungsoo’s. He shrugged lightly. “We can discuss about that,” he agreed.

Chanyeol thought about it for a moment, then pushed the thought away as something to talk about with the others anyway.

 

 

They watched until the end of the performance and it wasn’t until Jaehwan had left with Yoona that Chanyeol managed to call Sehun from the closest phonebooth in the school.

“Oh Sehun-ah, what’s up?” He asked, balancing the phone between his shoulder and ear as he battled with his school bag.

_Did you get the tape? How did it go?_

Chanyeol frowned. He finally managed to close his bag and he straightened up. “Why are you asking me? You always call Do Kyungsoo for stuff regarding the band.”

_He’s ignoring me. Or he forgot his pager, I don’t know so I paged you._

“The second, probably. He was with me. The video was great Sehun-ah, you have to see it. We need to meet up so we can all see it. Maybe at Kyungsoo’s, since I don’t have a videocassette recorder at the hasuk-jib.”

_Yeah, we should, Hyung. Hyung, have you heard from Baekhyun hyung today?_

Chanyeol paused for a moment, thinking about it. He hadn’t talked to Baekhyun since after the concert, when they’d walked back home together the night before. “No, I haven’t seen him this morning. I had class early.”

 _He called._ Sehun said.

“So what? Did he say something?” Chanyeol asked, a little impatient. They hadn’t talked about the kiss and Baekhyun had definitely kissed back, but Chanyeol was worried about what might come after. What if Baekhyun backed out of whatever Chanyeol had started?

 _He said he caught a cold or something and that he’d stay home today. He didn’t sound too well,_ Sehun left the sentence hanging at the end and Chanyeol inhaled deeply, worryingly.

“Why didn’t he say anything,” Chanyeol muttered more to himself than to Sehun. “I have to go, I’ll talk to you later. Let’s meet tomorrow for dinner, let’s eat meat or something, mh?”

 _Alright Hyung,_ Sehun chuckled on the other side of the line before Chanyeol hung up and looked around for a moment.

Of course Baekhyun hadn’t said anything, when did he ever. He could’ve had some terminal disease but he would want to do everything on his own, so that nobody would worry. If only that hadn’t the exact opposite effect and didn’t make Chanyeol extremely anxious.

He threw in a couple more coins and waited for the line to connect. It rang a few times before Baekhyun picked up, on the other side.

_Yes?_

He did sound tired, Chanyeol noticed as he rested his forehead against the glass surface of the phone booth. “It’s me. Sehun says you’re not feeling well, what happened?”

Baekhyun chuckled low and took a long breath. _It’s nothing, I must’ve exaggerated with the partying last night._

Chanyeol snorted. He felt the sudden need to see Baekhyun, to touch him, hug him or even simply keep him close. “You partied without me? Where?” He asked jokingly and Baekhyun laughed tiredly again.

_My bed. The best place on earth to party._

Chanyeol huffed amusingly, “You know that can sound very wrong, Byun Baekhyun?” He tried his best to sound cool and nonchalant, though his heart was drumming in his chest frantically on the rhythm of a crazy song.

Baekhyun stayed quiet and all Chanyeol could hear was the sound of his breath in the receiver. “Hyun-ah,” Chanyeol called, cautious.

 _Sorry, I’m just feeling very dizzy right now, I think I’ll go lie down for a moment_.

“I’m coming back to the hasuk-jib, do you need anything? Have you eaten?”

 _No, it’s ok. And I made myself ramen,_ Baekhyun replied.

There was a hissing sound and a thump that Chanyeol interpreted as Baekhyun sliding against the wall and sitting on the ground. Baekhyun had made himself _ramen_. Chanyeol closed his eyes and thought about it for a moment, before admitting he would’ve done the same exact thing after all, if he was the one who was sick.

“Hyun-ah go to bed, alright?” He said. Baekhyun replied with a hum before hanging up. Chanyeol stared at the void for a few seconds before finally leaving the phone booth and start walking towards the hasuk-jib.

He would’ve been lying if he’d said he wasn’t afraid of meeting Baekhyun, of the possibility of their encounter to be awkward. He was dreading the moment. Every step he got closer to the house, the more he felt his heart go up up, up inside his throat almost suffocating him, beating so loudly he couldn’t hear any other sound.

  


It was a warm, sunny day and Chanyeol was sweating by the time he got back home and started climbing up the stairs to the main door. The house was quiet when he entered, kicking his shoes off and dropping his bag to the floor. He’d stopped by the first convenience store he’d found to buy some _juk_ for Baekhyun; and to the pharmacy, to buy a general medicine for the cold, just in case Baekhyun hadn’t taken anything.

He’d convinced himself that he would’ve done the same for anyone else, though in reality he wouldn’t have. He’d never even bothered to visit Sehun when he was sick, mostly because he knew Kyungsoo would be there but also because he couldn’t be bothered. He’d probably checked on Jiho once in more than fifteen years of friendship.

It was different with Baekhyun, though. And it wasn’t only that Chanyeol knew nobody would check on him if he didn’t, no it wasn’t that. Chanyeol _wanted_ to see Baekhyun, he _needed_ to know he was fine and if he wasn’t, Chanyeol wanted to help. He liked Baekhyun, but more than that he _cared_ for him.

The door to Baekhyun’s room was closed and no sound came from inside when Chanyeol knocked. He tried again after a couple of seconds, wondering if Baekhyun hadn’t fallen asleep and that’s when he heard some shuffling and the sound of steps on the floor.

Before Chanyeol could turn the doorknob, Baekhyun slowly opened the door, peeking outside. He met Chanyeol’s eyes and his lips turned up in a faint smile. “Hey,” he said— his weight was almost completely on the door.

His hair sticking to his forehead, cheeks flushed and his glasses a bit low on his nose — Chanyeol stared and tried to reply to that smile with one of his own with very little result. “Hey,” he murmured with a frown. He felt bad for finding Baekhyun so lovely when he was so weak and looked like he could collapse any minute.

“I brought you this,” Chanyeol remembered all of a sudden, showing him the plastic bag, though the _juk_ definitely needed to be warmed up and Baekhyun couldn’t have taken the medicine without water. He lowered his eyes— a little stupid, a little shy.

Baekhyun opened the door a bit more and walked back inside, very not stable on his feet.

“Have you taken something? Isn’t it better to go to the hospital?” Chanyeol kept drowning him with questions without moving a step inside the room. There was a distinct scent to it that he associated with Baekhyun, though he couldn’t define what it was; maybe food, shower gel and Baekhyun’s shampoo.

“Why aren’t you coming in?” Baekhyun asked turning his head back for a moment.

Chanyeol swallowed, noticing how Baekhyun’s shirt was sticking to the boy’s back. His nape was covered in sweat and his hair looked a bit damp too. “Ah- yeah sorry,” Chanyeol stuttered as he closed the door behind him.

Baekhyun walked a few more steps inside, probably trying to reach the table. He stopped before getting there, though. He tried to hold on the wardrobe on his left and flopped against it with his shoulder.

Chanyeol felt his stomach drop. He let go of the bag without even realizing as he rushed towards Baekhyun to catch him. “Careful Baekhyun-ah,” he said as he circled Baekhyun’s shoulders and Baekhyun turned a little to put his weight completely on Chanyeol.

“I guess I’m less fine than I thought I was,” he murmured as he hid his face into Chanyeol’s shoulder. Chanyeol realized he must’ve showered before napping and sweating all over again—he smelled nice.

“Yeah, no shit. You almost collapsed on me, you’re so fine,” Chanyeol joked as he tried to keep Baekhyun up as they stumbled to the bed. “And you’re warm,” he commented, his hand holding onto Baekhyun’s arm.

Baekhyun didn’t say anything. His nose brushing against Chanyeol’s neck sent a shiver down the guitarist’s back— it spread like sudden lightning. Chanyeol had to stop for a moment and stare at Baekhyun’s bed to have his thoughts unravel and his brain to unfreeze.

He helped Baekhyun lower himself on the covers and sat on the edge of the bed as Baekhyun lay down with a huff— forearm covering his face and a weak but amused smile on his lips.

“Now, that was dangerous,” Chanyeol commented, patting Baekhyun thigh through the fabric of his sweatpants. “Are you feeling any better?”

“Like the life is being sucked out of me, yeah.”

“I can’t believe you said you were fine on the phone.” Chanyeol pushed Baekhyun’s arm away from his face for a moment and got a bit closer. “Fine my ass,” he said, before covering Baekhyun’s face again.

Baekhyun snorted then rolled on his side, curling up like a cat around Chanyeol without actually touching him. “You don’t have an ass Park Chanyeol, what are you talking about?”

Chanyeol should’ve expected a retort like that, considering it was Baekhyun he was discussing with, but he’d hoped he’d avoid it this time. “Stop being sassy Byun Baekhyun, you’re sick,” he replied with no bite.

“What connection does that even have…”

It was incredible how Baekhyun managed to always have a smart reply for everything Chanyeol told him, even when he had almost kissed the floor and he was whining like a baby. Chanyeol was exasperated and at the same time he thought he was going to explode in a million pieces because Baekhyun was _lovely_ and Chanyeol didn’t know what to do with it.  

“Roll that way a little,” Chanyeol said out of the blue completely ignoring Baekhyun’s words. He fumbled with the duvet for it to cover Baekhyun at least partially.

“What are you doing? It’s hot,” Baekhyun complained as he pushed Chanyeol’s arms -and the cover - away. He almost sounded whiny, which he never did, but even that was sort of cute.

“You’re sick, you need to stay warm and sweat the flu away, ByunBaek. Didn’t they teach you at school?” Chanyeol scolded him lightly, around a breathy laugh. He managed to fold the duvet around Baekhyun’s torso at least.

“They did. I don’t care, it’s hot Chanyeol-ah,” Baekhyun insisted, kicking the cover off his feet only. He pulled the rest up to his chin and curled his lips up in a smile. “You brought me food?”

Baekhyun peeked over the blanket to the plastic bag on the floor, near the entrance and Chanyeol followed his gaze, playing with the folds on his jeans with his fingertips. “Yeah, I bought some _juk_ and some medicine too. Are you hungry?”

Baekhyun nodded slowly, his fingers peeking out of the blanket from where he was holding it. Chanyeol stared at them for a moment, mesmerized.

“I got you chocopies too,” he added after a while. “I’ll go warm up your juk, you rest a bit, ok?”

Baekhyun frowned to that, his eyes darting to Chanyeol. “It’s fine, I can wait.”

“I’ll be right back,” Chanyeol reassured, proceeding to stand up. Baekhyun reached out, grabbing his wrist lightly.

“Stay a little more? Please?”

Chanyeol was ready for many things in life and clingy Baekhyun wasn’t one of those. He took a deep breath looking down to the singer. “Fine,” he replied, vaguely faking annoyance.

Baekhyun shuffled under the blanket until his feet and hand were securely tucked in, before smiling to Chanyeol and breathing out a _thank you_.

The room was hot, since the light came in from a big window on the other side of the room, however Baekhyun was shivering when Chanyeol’s hand touched the other boy’s shoulder for a moment. “And you said it was too hot...” Chanyeol teased.

He reached out to lightly brush Baekhyun’s fringe away from his face and Baekhyun’s eyes closed for a moment.

Chanyeol took a strand of hair between his fingers first, then carded his hand through Baekhyun’s fringe on after thought, pushing it back completely.

“Sehun said blonde would look cooler,” Baekhyun explained as his eyes flickered closed. “I don’t know, though. I just feel very visible.”

“I like it.” Chanyeol’s hand lingered there, for his finger to graze Baekhyun’s temple first, then go lower to his cheek. “It looked very good on stage,” he added, just as Baekhyun turned his head a little, to push his face closer to Chanyeol’s hand— his skin was soft and boiling hot. Chanyeol felt bad because he wished his hands were colder, to give Baekhyun some relief.

“Baekhyun-ah,” he called. He never stopped slowly caressing his cheek with the back of his index, with his thumb. “That song you sang yesterday...the lyrics were beautiful.”  
  
Baekhyun looked so relaxed, even when he opened his eyes just enough to meet Chanyeol’s gaze and smile contently. He didn’t say anything, but his hand sneaked out of the blanket and went to overlap Chanyeol’s— Baekhyun’s fingers fit perfectly in the gaps between Chanyeol’s knuckles.

He guided the guitarist’s hand until it was cupping his cheek and Chanyeol couldn’t keep his heart at bay, he couldn’t control his reactions as well as he would’ve liked. He hung his head low and laughed almost hysterically.

“Shit, Byun Baekhyun you’re so mean,” he blurted out. He tried to retreat his hand, but Baekhyun kept it there, looking at Chanyeol askance. “The lyrics of that song...” Chanyeol insisted again, apparently with no link whatsoever with what he’d just said. His brain wasn’t fully cooperating, maybe he was the sick one after all. “I was terrified of them, you know? I think I might have jinxed you into writing them because I was so scared of what they would say,” Chanyeol confessed.

Baekhyun frowned, looking both feverish and confused. “Why?”

Chanyeol’s thumb grazed the mole on Baekhyun’s cheek. “They’re about your love from the past, aren’t they?”

Baekhyun nodded and Chanyeol was finally allowed to retreat his hand— he realized he would’ve rather left it there.   
  
“That’s exactly why I was terrified. But you did so well I..” He stuttered and hid his face in his palm, only peeking at Baekhyun. “I don’t know what I’m saying anymore.” _I was terrified because I’m jealous_ was what he was trying to say, _because I like you_. He never got to saying that, though. Chanyeol just wasn’t brave enough yet.

“Chanyeol-ah,” Baekhyun called suddenly, reaching for Chanyeol’s hand again and drawing imaginary lines on the back of it, following the pattern of his veins. “That kiss you gave me yesterday…”

Chanyeol’s breath hitched, his gaze stopping on Baekhyun’s hand first, then on his lips and that mischievous grin of his. “Yeah?”

“How long do I have to wait until I get another one?” Baekhyun asked with some sort of naturalness to his voice, softness almost. Yet he sounded like he was daring Chanyeol to kiss him, slowly pulling him in, a wicked melody.

Chanyeol hummed, meeting Baekhyun’s eyes and yet keeping still, partially to tease him, partially because he was too nervous to move. He started shifting on the bed, shuffling closer to Baekhyun when the other boy’s finger intertwined with his.

“I’m asking for another kiss, Park Chanyeol,” Baekhyun clarified again, his free hand reaching for Chanyeol’s t-shirt to slowly pull him towards himself.

“Impatient,” Chanyeol scolded with a low snort, as he levered his arm on the bed and leaned in, his free hand reaching for Baekhyun’s jaw. He smiled instinctively, mirroring Baekhyun’s smile while Baekhyun let go of his shirt to glide his hand on his neck— it felt like hot water touching his skin.

“Very,” Baekhyun whispered back, as he closed the distance between them and pressed his lips against Chanyeol’s.

Baekhyun kissed with his mouth slightly open, languidly rather than passionately, as his hands roamed up Chanyeol’s arm under the sleeve of his t-shirt, through Chanyeol’s hair. It was overwhelming: Baekhyun’s scent, his warmth, his skin under Chanyeol’s fingertips as he followed the shape of his lobe and the curve of his ear.

Baekhyun seemed to shiver when Chanyeol did that, trembling under the guitarist’s touch for a moment, then lining his lips with his tongue, as if asking for access and drawing back immediately after. Kissing Baekhyun was a continuous push and pull, it was overwhelming— too many sensations at once, Chanyeol’s senses going haywire and his heart pulsating constantly, loudly in his ears as if it wanted to create another rhythm of its own, or maybe follow the rhythm of Baekhyun’s kisses.

Baekhyun’s skin was salty when Chanyeol kissed his upper lip, then brushed his nose against the tip of Baekhyun’s. He’d never felt the need to be so tender with anyone, but Baekhyun’s half closed eyes and his cheeks -flushed because of the flu- made Chanyeol be greedy for things he’d never thought he’d want before. He lost himself in grazing Baekhyun’s cheeks with the back of his fingers as he deepened the kiss, at the same time moving to hover over him.

Baekhyun’s breath fanned on Chanyeol’s face as he retreated for a moment, his gaze lingering on Baekhyun’s lip mole, the one on his cheek— the fact that Baekhyun’s eyebrows were still dark and they contrasted with the almost white blonde of his hair. Baekhyun was eyeing him back carefully, his expression unreadable, almost serious, before he sneaked his hands under the guitarist’s t-shirt. Chanyeol froze.

He stared at Baekhyun with such a shocked expression he must’ve looked funny, because Baekhyun laughed — a low, staccato laugh and pushed himself up a little on his elbows to steal another kiss, smiling into it as Chanyeol returned it in a daze.

“You know,” Baekhyun said, feeding words into Chanyeol’s mouth, as if they'd been kissing for their entire life. He retreated a little, pecking the corner of Chanyeol’s lips and reaching with the back of his ring finger to brush against the bridge of Chanyeol’s nose. “I really like it.”

“Mh?” Chanyeol was busy reaching where he could with his own lips, Baekhyun’s wrist, the tip of his pinkie casually stopping in front of his mouth for him to kiss it.

“Your nose. It's a very handsome one-” Another peck to Chanyeol’s lips. “Never break your nose.”

Chanyeol laughed, resting his forehead against Baekhyun’s. _He's happy_ he thought.

Chanyeol had thought he would be more into passionate, angry kisses, the kind of kisses that leave you breathless. However Baekhyun’s lips moving slowly against his own, his occasional nibbling at the tip of Chanyeol’s tongue made the guitarist’s skin tingle. They left him with so much time to think that he knew exactly what his hands were doing— his thumb tracing the shape of Baekhyun’s lips, the other by his head, touching his hair every now and then; and where Baekhyun’s hands were, on his lower back, drawing circles there and pressing slightly on the indentations of his spine.

Chanyeol was fully dressed, but he felt so naked there, with his chest pressed against Baekhyun’s, their hearts syncing in a regular- almost relieving- beat.

Baekhyun left some light, fleeting kisses on Chanyeol’s lips as he lay down on his back and forced him to follow, until Chanyeol’s weight was almost completely on him and he sighed content. “Another one?” he asked, sounding like he'd just come out of water.

Chanyeol laughed, burying his face in the crook of Baekhyun’s shoulder and kissing there instead, on the hollow of his clavicle. Baekhyun shivered again, this time recoiling and pushing Chanyeol off him with a breathy laughter.

“What? You asked for another,” Chanyeol replied smug, gaining some courage from the fact that Baekhyun wasn't teasing him anymore. Rather, he looked flustered.

“Not there, smartass” Baekhyun replied around a smile.

Chanyeol chuckled, scooting closer until he was pressed against Baekhyun’s side, one arm draped over his waist, the other folded between them. “Where then?” He pressed his lips on Baekhyun’s shoulder as the other boy looked elsewhere, focused on something outside the window.

Chanyeol hesitated a moment before peeling Baekhyun’s glasses off, but when he did and folded them to put them away on the floor, Baekhyun breathed out, sounding tired but calm.

“You know,” Baekhyun started as Chanyeol’s fingers grazed his skin just above the t shirt collar. “The next song I write, I want it to talk about what I feel now, who I am now.” He paused for a moment and closed his eyes— he curled one arm around Chanyeol’s neck and started carding his fingers through his hair. “I don't want to sing about that love anymore. I want something different.”

“You're already thinking of another song?” Chanyeol asked cautiously. Baekhyun just nodded, smiling faintly.

“I don't know if it'll be as good, though,” he admitted, almost shy.

“I know it will.” Chanyeol’s tone was reassuring. He touched Baekhyun’s cheek with the back of his hand. It was still boiling hot, to the point that Chanyeol felt a bit guilty and a bit selfish for...just being there essentially.

“You'd like it even if I made a song about dog shit, Park Chanyeol.” Chanyeol didn't have the time to complain. “Actually maybe you'd hate the song but you'd still like me,” he said, all confident but somewhat tender about it.

“I told you it to stop it with the sass, Hyun,” Chanyeol said with a groan, but he sounded more amused than annoyed. “Sleep a bit now, think of nice, happy love songs.”

“Happy love songs…” Baekhyun murmured, drowsy, as he turned around pushing Chanyeol so that he could sleep half draped on him instead. Chanyeol let him, kissing his temple once Baekhyun had settled contently.

 _Happy love songs_.

 

.

  


“So what we have to decide now is what to do with this,” Kyungsoo started as the waiter left a plate of different kinds of meat to their table and turned the grill on for them.

The restaurant they’d chosen for dinner was hidden in one of the backstreets in the university area and it was packed with older people, all of them eating and talking loudly amongst them to the point where Chanyeol and the others had to raise their voices to hear each other.

Sehun started to lay the meat on the grill while Baekhyun took care of the cutlery and tissues. “I didn’t expect us to look that cool, to be honest. Baekhyun hyung was awesome,” Sehun noted, glancing up at Baekhyun with a bright smile on his lips.

“Oh, you watched it already?” Kyungsoo asked. Both Baekhyun and Sehun nodded, then looked at Chanyeol as if asking him to explain for them.

“We watched it at my parents’ house yesterday, since Sehun was staying for dinner and Baekhyun came over too.” Chanyeol offered with a quick shrug. He dipped his spoon in the _doenjangjjigae_ on the grill and took a sip of the broth and Baekhyun followed, as Kyungsoo helped Sehun grilling the meat.

“Jaehwanie did a good job with it, I think,” Kyungsoo noted, then murmured something about the meat to Sehun and turned one of the pieces while talking. “Also, Sehun and I went to Paradise Dust to see Jongdeok and…”

Both him and Sehun broke in a satisfied grin. Chanyeol raised an eyebrow, confused, but it was Baekhyun to ask. “So what?”

“You tell them,” Kyungsoo patted Sehun’s wrist and it was clear that he was trying to look calmer than he was.

“There were a couple of people talking about us. Well, it was mostly about you and Chanyeol hyung since you were the ones singing but… _There were people talking about us_! That never happened before Hyung, and we’ve been performing for a while,” Sehun explained excitedly. “It was so satisfying Hyung, I don’t know how to explain.”

Sehun didn’t seem to need to. Baekhyun was smiling and he looked the happiest Chanyeol had ever seen him. “Jaehwan, the guy who recorded the stage for us, he asked us where we’d found you,” Chanyeol added, this time directed to Baekhyun only.

“Ah,” the boy replied and he was embarrassed for a moment, as everyone’s attention went on him. “Why do I have the feeling people will expect a lot from me, from now on?” He giggled with his usual _eheh_ laugh and looked down to the grill.

“Because they will, probably,” Kyungsoo deadpanned while he passed the scissors to Sehun and the bassist started to cut the meat in smaller pieces.

Kyungsoo yelled to order some soju to their table as some old people from the other table started betting on something, then laughing loudly all together. Baekhyun looked nervous suddenly, as he munched on his rice. He must’ve felt Chanyeol’s eyes on him, because he looked at him with a faint smile.

“It’s fine, hyung”, Sehun said, dropping some pieces of meat into Baekhyun’s bowl of rice. “You had prepared nothing last time, and you did great. Plus we’re here for a reason, don’t worry about it too much.”

Baekhyun laughed breathily, nodding a couple of times. He was wearing a baseball cap that was hiding part of his face and a jean jacket over one of Chanyeol’s t-shirts which Chanyeol had no idea how that had ended into Baekhyun’s laundry.                                 

Chanyeol sneakily shifted closer to him with his stool, then poked Baekhyun’s hand, the one resting on the singer’s thigh. Baekhyun didn’t react, apparently, but he blindly searched for Chanyeol’s pinky finger to link his own with. Once he had, he shifted on his chair and bit the corner of his lips to hold back a smile and Chanyeol had to look elsewhere to do the same— he felt like a highschooler with a crush, but he couldn’t help it. He was happy.

“So, the thing is,” Kyungsoo started again as Sehun started pouring the soju for all of them. Baekhyun first, then Chanyeol, then Kyungsoo and him. “I don’t know what Chanyeol has told you about all of this…” Kyungsoo met Chanyeol’s eyes in askance, to which Chanyeol shook his head.

“I haven’t told him yet,” he clarified.

Baekhyun stayed quiet, but he started rubbing circles on the palm of Chanyeol’s hand with his thumb.

“We met the Bang Twins at our gig at Paradise Dust. Do you know who they are?”

Baekhyun nodded. “I do, I...I know a few people in the musical field, my…” He hesitated for a moment. “Hyung used to take me to events a lot, when he was in a band himself. I was too young to actually be friends with these people but I usually know the names if you mention them,” Baekhyun clarified.

Chanyeol eyed him for a moment, recalling the conversation he’d overheard, the one with Jongdae. _You’ve always wanted to make music_ Jongdae had said, and it made so much sense, in retrospective, knowing how Baekhyun had owned the stage and how easy he’d fallen into the _musician_ ’s role once put on that stage.

“Well, the Bang twins asked to see us as a group. I’m not sure if he’ll be offering a contract right away, I doubt, but they could act as our agents so that we get to that point. They might want to show what we have to other producers maybe, or keep us to themselves, I’m not really sure,” Kyungsoo explained. Baekhyun hummed in response, munching on a piece of meat.

Chanyeol gulped down his soju after hitting Sehun’s glass with his own and cleared his voice. “The problem is that we haven’t really discussed what kind of style we want to go for or what we want out of this. A contract is a big thing and...I don’t know, Jiho bailed on us because he didn’t want to be a musician for the rest of his life.” Chanyeol paused, Baekhyun was still touching his hand.

Kyungsoo’s eyes were clearly fixed on Baekhyun at this point. “What do you want out of this exactly, ByunBaek? We know you wanted to learn how to play, and you came to watch our rehearsals and all but...do you really want to be a musician?”

Being a musician had always been Chanyeol’s dream, since he’d gotten that guitar from uncle Kapjin and he’d started picking the strings in the backyard of his house. Yet, was that Baekhyun’s dream too? _He’d always wanted to do music_ , according to what Jongdae had said, but that and being a musician for a job implied very different things.

Baekhyun didn’t reply immediately, keeping his gaze down to his glass of soju, still full in front of him. “I can’t remember much from our stage, to be honest. I...can hardly remember what I sang, actually.” He cackled, fixing his cap and his blonde fringe under it, letting go of Chanyeol’s hand. He removed his glasses after that and folded them, before putting them on the table. “But I remember that it was…” He tried to gesticulate, but didn’t seem to happy with the result. “It was like the music you guys were making was resonating through me, I don’t know how to put it into words, I’m feeling very stupid right now.”

Chanyeol sighed. Baekhyun’s words burned like fire under Chanyeol’s skin. He felt them deeply, because that was exactly what happened to him, whenever he played. He looked at Baekhyun with such a fond gaze that he couldn’t bother to hide it.

“It was the first time in my life I felt that way. I…” Baekhyun played with the edge of his glass. “I want to do that again, I want to feel it again. So...yeah, if you want me. I’d like to come to that meeting with you guys.” He stopped, “Oh and, I want to try to write another song too.”

Baekhyun smiled softly after that, reaching with his chopsticks to take some more meat from the batch on the grill. It was almost all gone, they should order some soon.

Sehun and Kyungsoo were looking at Baekhyun like they’d just had some sacred revelation. They both picked some of the meat from the grill and placed it into Baekhyun’s place.

“Eat a lot, Hyung,” Sehun said, almost solemn. “That was really beautiful to hear.”

Baekhyun giggled again, shaking his head and Chanyeol could’ve kissed him right there and then, with clothes stinky of meat and the taste of soju on his lips. Instead he hung his head down and his hand went to grip at Baekhyun’s thigh out of instinct. He’d been so wrong when he’d thought Baekhyun wasn’t meant to do music, he’d been so stupid.

“So we’re all in, aren’t we?” Kyungsoo asked to confirm, and opened the second bottle of soju, while Sehun ordered a second batch of meat to grill.

“I think so,” Baekhyun nodded a couple of times. “When is the meeting?”

“In a couple of days,” Chanyeol replied. He started grilling the meat by himself at this point, after gesturing to Sehun to just rest. “Do you guys have school stuff?”

“I don’t think so, no,” Baekhyun reassured while Kyungsoo and Sehun shook their heads too.

“There’s another thing, actually.” Kyungsoo said as if suddenly recalling something. “Jaewhan made an interesting point when we met him. He said we should change the name of our band, because The Housewives doesn’t sound cool.”

Baekhyun’s eyes darted to Chanyeol in askance and Chanyeol just shrugged. “We were The Housewives with Jiho, after all. Now that Jiho has left I feel like we could change the name to something different.”

“And Jaehwan is right, having a name like Queen only worked with them because they...were them, you know. We’re not, we need something a little cooler,” Sehun commented afterward, in agreement.

Baekhyun seemed a little surprised, but he smiled enthusiastically at the idea anyway. “So, do we have any candidate?”

Kyungsoo crouched to fish a black notebook from his school bag. “I brought some paper and a pen for that purpose, but I don’t have ideas.” He opened the small notebook and tapped the pen on it once, twice.

Sehun reached to play with the yellow ginkgo leaf Kyungsoo had kept between two pages of the notebook. “You know you can make a cute butterfly with these?” He shared, completely unrelated.

“Nobody cares, Sehun-ah,” Chanyeol offered flatly. “So, do we have any names?”

“Why not Ginkgo something, though? I mean, it’s a cute word,” Sehun insisted, keeping the leaf between  his fingers.

Kyungsoo jotted it down as Baekhyun proceeded to cut the meat at this point. Chanyeol shook his head at Sehun’s idea, tapping his fingers on the metal table. “Those trees stink like nothing else if you step on those damn berries.. they’re like stink bombs, I don’t want my group to be called like a tree that smells like shit.”

Baekhyun laughed at that, hitting Chanyeol’s glass of soju and drinking his own in one go. “I think it’s cute, though?”

“I find it nice too, actually,” Kyungsoo shared too. “What do you propose, Yeol?”

“I don’t know! Something cool like...Phoenixes of tomorrow or something...What’s with that stinky tree…”

Sehun pouted, but both Kyungsoo and Baekhyun laughed at Chanyeol’s words. “That’s very lame Park Chanyeol that’s like...the complete opposite of cool,” Kyungsoo commented as he wrote down the name anyway.

“I like the Gingko idea,” Baekhyun repeated, poking Chanyeol’s hip, and half pouting himself. “Don’t suggest uncool things, ParkChan. It’s my first time in a group, I want it to have a cool name at least.”

Chanyeol frowned, muttering nonsense.

“So, Ginkgo what. Ginkgo...boys? Tree?” Sehun asked, as he split the leaf stem in two and folded the rest, probably to make the butterfly he was talking about.

“Please Sehun don’t say Ginkgo butterfly or I’m gonna cry,” Chanyeol warned and they all laughed loudly, as the soju in their systems worked their magic in making them feel more relaxed.

“What about Wind or...Dawn?” Baekhyun suggested.

“Ginkgo Wind? Gingko Dawn...They’re both nice, yeah.” Kyungsoo wrote them down. “Yeol?”

“I still don’t like the stinky tree,” Chanyeol repeated, but he was more amused than anything at this point. “Did you just stick two words to it and make it up?” He asked towards Baekhyun.

“No, it’s…” Baekhyun chuckled. “Maybe I shouldn’t tell you guys the whole story but it reminded me of when I ended up in prison once.”

“You what, Hyung?” Sehun asked. Kyungsoo and Chanyeol were too surprised? Confused? A mix of the two to express themselves.

“Ah yeah I just stayed for one night, of course. They found out I was a minor in a factory protest with Hyung and his friends and they kicked me to prison for a while. So I had to wait for someone to pick me up at five in the morning and there were all the stinky tree leaves, you see?”

Baekhyun was explaining it like it was no big deal, but Chanyeol had learned to see past that façade and notice when Baekhyun was saying something important to him— this definitely was. He decided he would ask, once they were alone.

“And so...Ginkgo Dawn?” Kyungsoo tried, raising an eyebrow. “It does sound nice. What do you think Yeol?”

Chanyeol would’ve gladly kept on with the whining about smelly trees, but the name sounded nice as Kyungsoo said, and it had some deeper meaning for one of them at least. He flicked his shoulders in defeat and Kyungsoo circled the word on the notebook.

“Is it decided then? Our group’s name is Ginkgo Dawn?” Kyungsoo asked to confirm once again. Baekhyun was smiling again with that nostalgic air of his and Chanyeol felt an uncomfortable pang inside his stomach.

He wasn’t sure calling their group something that reminded Baekhyun of an unpleasant memory was a good idea. He didn’t want their band’s name to keep piercing into Baekhyun’s scars. Chanyeol eyed Baekhyun carefully and squeezed his thigh again, trying to get his attention.

Baekhyun glanced at him, smiling reassuringly.

“I like it,” Baekhyun confirmed. “It’s...poetic enough, I guess.”

Sehun nodded a couple of times, munching on some rice. “It’s fine to me. I liked The Housewives too, but it’s nice to change since we’re not the same band now that Hyung joined.”

“I…” Chanyeol started, and everyone’s eyes were on him. “I like it. Let’s go for it. We can have the stinky leaf as a logo, if you like.” His lips broke in a tentative smile and the others breathed out in relief.

“Thank God...I thought he was really gonna insist with the flying shit of tomorrow or whatever that was...It was bad, Yeol. Very bad,” Baekhyun commented amusedly and the others snickered about it for a while.

“To the flying shit of to… to Ginkgo Dawn?” Kyungsoo offered, still half laughing, raising his glass of soju for the others to _jjan_ with.

They did, and Baekhyun snatched Chanyeol’s hand under the table while drinking his soju and hissing immediately after. “It’s bitter,” he grimaced and chuckled. Chanyeol thought Baekhyun’s hand felt warm in his— he played with Baekhyun’s fingers distractedly, following their shape with his own fingertips. He vaguely remembered meeting Baekhyun on the stairs, months back, and thinking _his hands are pretty_. He would’ve never imagined he would be holding them under the table of a meat restaurant, a few months later.

Sehun poured some more soju for everyone, but Baekhyun pushed his glass back shaking his head. “Not gonna get drunk today, I might go kiss one of those old guys over there and I really don’t want that.” He sounded teasing, and he threw a brief glance to Chanyeol’s very not amused face.

“Which by the way, Hyung,” Sehun called, and all of them looked at him in confusion. “Chanyeol hyung, I told you Baekhyun was gonna get us all arrested, at some point.”

Baekhyun snorted, this time half amused half in defeat. “I swear it was only that one night and I was like sixteen. I’m not eager in trying that again, thank you.”

Chanyeol raised an eyebrow at him with a daring smirk. “Sure, mr my speech is about getting ex presidents arrested…” Chanyeol teased, linking his fingers with Baekhyun’s at the same time before Baekhyun could retreat his hand.

“He’s totally getting us arrested,” Sehun repeated, this time whispering it like a secret to Kyungsoo.

“Why are you all like this suddenly!” Baekhyun laughed covering his face with his palm, but he didn’t sound offended at all. He was having as much fun as all of them. Chanyeol kept eyeing him sideways and silently wished he could crystallize that moment and let Baekhyun be that happy and carefree all the time.

He couldn’t believe how deep he’d fallen for him already.

 

.

 

They left the restaurant after Sehun had gotten seriously drunk and had started whining like usual. If there was someone who drastically changed when very drunk, it was Sehun.

“Are you guys sure we can go…?” Baekhyun asked, as Chanyeol draped one arm on his shoulder a few steps away from the entrance of the restaurant. Kyungsoo had sat Sehun on a plastic chair and was just standing in front of him, as if evaluating the situation.

“He’ll be fine,” Kyungsoo reassured. Sehun reached forward to hug him and hide his face on Kyungsoo’s shoulder and the drummer surprisingly let him, patting his back every now and then.

“I hope he doesn’t throw up on you.” Chanyeol stared at them for a while more, his brows knitted as he recalled Sehun mentioning someone he was dating. He pushed the thought aside as Sehun whined some more nonsense and Baekhyun hinted at the road with a flick of his head.

“Yeah, let’s go. I’ll call you tomorrow, Soo.” Chanyeol waved his hand and started walking back with Baekhyun— his arm still draped on the singer’s shoulder while Baekhyun had intertwined his fingers with Chanyeol’s hand instead. It was late enough for them to be able to be relatively intimate on the streets without people whispering behind their backs.

The streets in the area were very dimly lit but there were so many restaurants around still packed with people that it didn’t feel like late night at all. Chanyeol leaned in to leave a peck on the side of Baekhyun’s head, which had Baekhyun startle and then snort, pushing his elbow into Chanyeol’s hip.

“What was that for?” He asked around a chuckle.

Chanyeol shrugged, only distractedly rubbing at the side where Baekhyun had just hit him. “I just felt like kissing you.”

Baekhyun snorted again, “Cheesy…”

“What’s wrong with that...I’m new to this whole ‘I like a guy’ thing, should I be less like this or…?” Chanyeol frowned, insecurity shadowing over him for a moment as Baekhyun laughed at him, resting his forehead on Chanyeol’s shoulder.

“I swear to God you’re adorable, ParkChan.”

Chanyeol frowned some more while Baekhyun nuzzled his cheek against Chanyeol’s shoulder some more. “You’re not giving me answers.”

“You’re doing just fine, ParkChan. I’m just not used to the attention,” Baekhyun explained, and there was something in his voice that made him sound extremely content.

“Didn’t your...Junki hyung give you enough attention?”

Baekhyun looked a bit taken aback at the mention of the name, but it was just a second. “It’s not that he didn’t, but… he wasn’t exactly as intimate in public, I’d say.”

Chanyeol hummed back, going silent for a while as they crossed the bridge over the pitch black canal, going towards the other side of Jaegidong for their hasuk-jib. He forced his brain not to think of Baekhyun with other men, trying not to feed his jealousy more than necessary. That story, whatever the outcome had been, was part of Baekhyun and there was nothing Chanyeol could do to fix that.

He felt both powerless and at the same time in the middle of accepting the situation as it was. Baekhyun had a lover, and he died. And he was probably still latched to the memory of the guy and Chanyeol couldn’t do anything but try to accept it.

He sighed, noticing Baekhyun staring at him from under his baseball cap.

“Kiss me?” Baekhyun asked out of the blue, and Chanyeol thought he was his way to draw the guitarist away from his demons and bring him back to him.

Chanyeol smiled, puffing some air through his nose. “I spoil you,” he murmured against Baekhyun’s lips. Baekhyun pressed his lips against Chanyeol’s softly and deepened the kiss a little, pushing his tongue just past Chanyeol’s lips as Chanyeol reached for his waist.

It was a brief kiss, but enough to have Chanyeol take Baekhyun’s cap off out of frustration and for Baekhyun to laugh into their kiss, as he was still moving his lips against Chanyeol’s.

The kiss seemed to work. Chanyeol was more relaxed as they started to walk again. They weren’t even holding hands, but Baekhyun’s presence next to him was enough to both calm Chanyeol down and make his sense go in a frenzy.

They walked past the canal, Baekhyun looking up at the low hanging cables, when Chanyeol spoke again. “Don’t you think Do Kyungsoo and Oh Sehun are a bit too close?” He questioned suddenly.

Baekhyun just raised his shoulders lightly. “I guess. But I mean, it’s obvious they are.”

No, it wasn’t obvious at all. “But Sehun mentioned about how he was dating someone,” Chanyeol replied and Baekhyun stopped to look at him with such a wicked grin that the guistarist could’ve punched him. “What.”

“You really have no idea, do you?”

“Of what.”

“Sehunie is dating someone. And that someone is Kyungsoo.” Baekhyun said, then reached up to flick Chanyeol’s forehead with his finger. “You are so slow sometimes, Park Chanyeol. Here, you can be mindblown for a couple more minutes.”

Chanyeol froze, his mouth open in a mute _o_. “Oh Sehun is dating Do Kyungsoo? That Do Kyungsoo?”

“No, my third year sunbae. Yes. That Do Kyungsoo, why do you think they’re always together and Kyungsoo puts up with all of Sehun’s shit.”

Chanyeol frowned, recalling the image of Kyungsoo sneaking under the covers with Sehun, that one time at Sehun’s place. And when Sehun’s boiler was broken, how he’d rushed to help. Or when he’d brought blankets at Sehun’s place because the boiler wasn’t working again. _Yeah_ , he decided. _It makes sense_.

“What a revelation, huh?” Baekhyun was still chuckling while walking ahead of a still very shocked Chanyeol.

“I can’t believe they were right there in front of my eyes and I had to wait for you to tell me,” Chanyeol shared as he palmed his face and carded his hair with his hand. “And I mean right there.”

“You’re slow, ParkChan. But I guess we all like you like that.” Baekhyun smirked, then curled his lips in the motion of a kiss as he walked backwards in the alleyway.

Chanyeol was still holding his cap through the loop on the back and he groaned at Baekhyun’s continuous smirking. “Stop teasing, they never told me. I couldn’t have assumed, c’mon.”

Baekhyun stumbled back towards him and grabbed his hand, dragging him forward giggling like an idiot. “C’mon, I wanna go home. Let’s sleep together today, mh?” He said, naturally, almost as if it wasn’t a big deal.

Chanyeol went completely red, his heart making a somersault in his chest and going back full drumming. “I don’t… Sleep together?”

“Sleep. And maybe…” Baekhyun raised an eyebrow and wiggled it a couple times. “Ehehe, maybe…”

“Ya, ByunBaek!” Chanyeol was supposed to sound scary, bit with his ears red and his body ready to go with whatever proposition Baekhyun had, whatever effect he wanted to have completely vanished.

The street was deserted when they reached the hasuk-jib. Baekhyun had never let go of Chanyeol’s hand while walking there and Chanyeol couldn’t even remember clearly what they had talked about. It was something regarding the heroes they liked as children, what cartoons they preferred.

Chanyeol only recalled that Baekhyun had sounded so relaxed, as if he had no worries at all. Chanyeol was hanging on his lips, looking at him all the time and noticing how the melody he’d associated to Baekhyun in his brain, when they’d first met, was slowly changing into something completely different.

Baekhyun was all focused on talking about Mazinga when Chanyeol noticed the car parked in front of their hasuk-jib. He’d never seen it before, but the person standing by its side was familiar and at the same time, where it was, it looked very out of place.

“MazingaZ was the absolute best, I don’t understand how you can like the Great Mazinger more, it makes no sense,” Baekhyun kept chattering, gesturing with his free hand as to highlight how wrong Chanyeol was.

Chanyeol didn’t reply, his eyes focused on Jongdeok as he waved lightly, pushing himself away from his car. Jongdeok’s presence there was odd, like a note out of tune. Baekhyun himself looked a bit confused when he finally noticed him and glanced up to meet Chanyeol’s eyes, as if asking for an explanation.

Chanyeol shook his head in a silent _I don’t know_ as they got closer.

“Hey, I didn’t expect you guys to come back so late. Have you eaten already?” Jongdeok greeted them like that, and he was his usual persona. All smiles. A nice talker.

“Yeah, we just had dinner with the others. I didn’t expect to see you here, though? Is there anything wrong?” Chanyeol’s brain was already rewinding their last gig at Paradise Dust, trying to remember whether they’d broken something or caused any kind of trouble. He couldn’t remember, though.

Baekhyun’s hand squeezed his lightly, and Chanyeol just remembered their hands were still linked. Jongdeok didn’t seem to care, or maybe he hadn’t noticed.

“No, actually I came because I hoped I could talk with Baekhyunie for a moment. We haven’t seen each other for a while, since…”

Baekhyun nodded, looking elsewhere. “Yeah,” He smiled, uncomfortable. “Since the funeral, Hyung. How have you been?”

Chanyeol was missing pieces, as his eyes darted from Baekhyun to Jongdeok and back to Baekhyun. “How do you guys know each other? Did you meet before the liveshow?”

“He’s Jongdae’s brother,” Baekhyun clarified with a weak but reassuring smile. “I’ve known him for ages, ParkChan.”

Chanyeol stared at Jongdeok for a few more moments, trying to link him to the same Junki Hyung who Baekhyun was in love with. Was Jongdeok a friend? An acquaintance? He couldn’t tell and he couldn’t ask. Not right then, at least.

“Baekhyun-ah, can I talk to you for a moment, then?” Jongdeok asked again, hinting at his car with his chin.

Baekhyun nodded, slowly letting go of Chanyeol’s hand. “I’ll see you inside in a minute,” he reassured and Chanyeol thought his hand suddenly felt a bit too light.

When Baekhyun sneaked into his bed again, an hour later, he was quiet and didn’t say much. He kissed Chanyeol like he was gasping for air after being underwater for a long time, holding onto him then hid his face in the crook of Chanyeol’s shoulder.

Chanyeol stared at the ceiling the whole night as Baekhyun whined a little before falling asleep.


	12. Track 11

**Track 11**

 

Saying that Chanyeol was nervous about the encounter with the Bang twins would’ve been an understatement. He was positively terrified. Do Kyungsoo himself had described the two men as quite intimidating and Oh Sehun had confirmed. In general everyone in the music area, Jongdeok included, had stories about their encounters with the twins and everyone of them had cared to highlight how their first impression of them had been the worst.

By the time Gingko Dawn got to Bang Yongguk’s studio in one of the markets streets of Itaewon Chanyeol was green and sweaty and all he wanted was for someone to give him a bucket to puke. The others weren’t much better, but at least they didn’t have the pressure of being the band leader.

Itaewon wasn’t exactly bustling with life in the market streets at midday on a Wednesday morning, except for a few old ladies going back home and the usual bunch of American soldiers walking by, every now and then. The Bang Twin’s studio was on the same building of a tattoo parlor that, according to what everyone else had said, was run by the same family. It was a regular three storey building in red bricks and a small balcony on the second floor.

Kyungsoo pointed at it looking back at Chanyeol and Baekhyun just a few steps behind and Chanyeol felt himself growing even more anxious. 

“What if he doesn’t like us,” he muttered, both his hands in the pockets of his trousers. They’d all dressed nicely, though rather than a group of workers, they were closer to looking like a group of High School students who’d skipped class, wearing just a white shirt, trousers and Allstars — none of them had the time to find fancy shoes. 

“The scary twin?” Sehun asked, but it sounded like teasing. “It’ll be fine hyung, the worst he can do is tell us he won’t work with us.” 

Chanyeol glared at him, glancing back at a silent Baekhyun walking next to him. The vocalist just smiled faintly at Sehun’s words and didn’t tease Chanyeol with it, which was weird.  _ He must be nervous _ Chanyeol thought, feeling a little nauseous himself.

“Technically he already noticed us, so we just need to make a good impression, right?” Kyungsoo asked, and it was one of the rare times Chanyeol could actually feel the nervousness in his voice.

“I guess…” Chanyeol shrugged, as they stopped in front of the building and Kyungsoo buzzed the intercom. Someone opened for them, and Chanyeol felt Baekhyun’s hand on his shoulder squeeze as they started climbing up the stairs.

“This is scary,” Chanyeol whispered, this time closer to Baekhyun’s ear and the vocalist nodded widening his eyes a little.

“The expression I’m shitting my pants has never been more accurate” Baekhyun joked, and they both chuckled in their own little world.

Kyungsoo and Sehun proceeded ahead, chatting about something Chanyeol didn’t pay attention to.

The person who opened the door to the studio clearly wasn’t one of the twins but another guy that looked around the same age as Chanyeol was, just a little shorter than him. He looked like he’d spent the summer at the beach naked, considering how tanned he was and that contrasted nicely with the honey blonde shade of his hair. 

The guy smiled. “Are you guys The Housewives?” He asked, as they entered what looked more like a private apartment than a studio with wooden floors and a whole mix of different furniture styles from very european to traditional korean. “Yongnam hyung is out, so you’re meeting Yongguk hyung only, for today. Is that ok with you or we can rearrange…”

The guy looked at them and they all zeroed in on Chanyeol, still on the doorstep. “Ah-” He stuttered, then shook his head and gestured a little with his hands. “We- We’ll be fine with meeting… We’ll go with the first option.” 

The guy nodded and smiled, understanding almost, and Chanyeol breathed out when he finally left the room, he assumed to consult the producer. Chanyeol moved a couple of steps in the room, looking down at the carpet on the floor and the small table on it, facing the sofa on the other side of the room. Kyungsoo and Sehun had already sat on it, Sehun playing with a rubik's cube and Kyungsoo giving him suggestions every time Sehun got stuck.

Baekhyun was stuck in a corner, looking at some photographs and certificates hanging on the walls. Chanyeol walked up to him slowly, while the voice of the guy who’d let them in was audible from the next room. 

“They have a dog,” Baekhyun noted, pointing at the pictures of the twins with a poodle.

Chanyeol hummed, stealing glances of the singer with an involuntary smile. Baekhyun had woken up too late to style his hair and that resulted in it looking like a blonde spiky mess that made him look young, but somehow vaguely similar in style to those western celebrities Chanyeol was used to seeing on Yoora’s magazines.

“They looked more intimidating at the live show than they do in pictures,” Chanyeol commented distractedly, his attention only partially going to the pictures. 

Baekhyun turned his face a little and his lips curled up in a smile. “Maybe they just go for the scary look. Having a tattoo parlor is not common either, if you think about it.”

They heard some more voices and the sound of steps getting closer and both turned around. 

“I really hope I don’t mess this up,” Chanyeol murmured, as his stomach clenched suddenly and the nausea was back to attack him. He closed his hands in fists 

Baekhyun reached to grasp his wrist and hold it, right before the same guy from before peeked in the room from a corridor on the left. 

“Yongguk hyung says you can go in. He’s having lunch, but don’t worry too much.” The guy stopped for a moment, he smiled again but he looked hesitant. “He’s nice.”

They heard a deep voice call  _ Daehyun-ah _ from the corridor and the guy — his name was Daehyun, apparently— disappeared again for a second. Then all they could see was half of his arm encouraging them to come in.

Kyungsoo and Sehun hurried behind Chanyeol and Baekhyun as they walked towards the corridor. Chanyeol thought he would die there on the spot. He was meeting a real producer for the first time in his life, he had no idea what he should say or how he should act and according to that, everything could be a disaster or not.

Baekhyun’s hand slowly glided from Chanyeol’s wrist to his index finger, curling his own fingers around it. Then he looked up to meet Chanyeol’s eyes for a moment and Chanyeol felt a vague sense of relief spread inside his chest.

It lasted one second probably, until he had to walk behind Daehyun into the real studio. In that moment he swallowed dry and started repeating nonsense in his mind like a mantra, trying to calm down. 

“Daehyun-ah, bring some water for Tigger if you don’t mind.”

The producer’s voice was even deeper than Chanyeol’s and he talked as if he didn’t want to make too much noise. He was wearing all black, his hair on a curly mop on his head and several tattooes peeking through his t-shirt on his arms and chest. The producer dragged his eyes slowly from Daehyun to Chanyeol and stopped on him. He bowed awkwardly and only noticed in the corner of his eyes that the other guys were doing the same.

“Oh, you came,” the producer said, and his expression relaxed into a smile that was a lot more friendly and approachable than what Chanyeol had expected. “Sit down, there are foldable chairs over there.”   
  
The producer was probably in his thirties, sitting on a swing chair with a cup of ramen balanced on his thigh. Also, Chanyeol had been so distracted by his own nervousness, that he hadn’t noticed the small poodle coming out from under the table and stopping in front of him to smell his feet.

He expected the dog to bark or jump wildly, but it didn’t. It carefully inspected Chanyeol’s shoes, then stood on its hind paws, front paws against Chanyeol’s shin. 

“He doesn’t bite, don’t worry,” the producer reassured while Chanyeol kneeled to pet the dog. The others seemed to be taking care of the chairs. 

“It’s fine, he’s a good boy, aren’t you?” Chanyeol’s anxiety seemed to vanish in a puff of air, even faster than the effect Baekhyun had had on him. The dog growled a little then barked once, when Chanyeol grabbed its face with both hands and pulled playfully.

“He’s the dog guy, if it wasn’t clear enough,” Kyungsoo noted sitting down after bowing again. The producer laughed, briefly, as finally Chanyeol let go of Tigger and went to sit next to Sehun. They’d set the chairs in a semi circle on Bang Yongguk’s right, the only available space in the room.

It didn’t even look like a real studio but more like the producer’s personal space, judging by the amount of empty ramen containers and pictures scattered here and there. In one corner of the room a whole pile of vinyl discs on the floor. 

“Can I get your names again, please?” The producer asked, leaning back on the chair where he was sitting while Tigger flopped at his feet, crossing his front paws. Yongguk put aside the empty ramen container and crouched, one elbow on his leg, his attention on Chanyeol and the others.

Chanyeol knew this would be his job to do, so he cleared his voice. “Oh Sehun is our bassist, and Do Kyungsoo is our drummer.” Both Sehun and Kyungsoo bowed their heads again. The producer nodded in understanding. “Byun Baekhyun is our vocalist and I am Park Chanyeol. I used to be the vocalist when we didn’t have Baekhyun yet, but now I just play the guitar, I guess.”

“Alright.” Yongguk studied them for a while in silence. Chanyeol felt his hands sweat again and was ready to dart to the door and leave, when Baekhyun grabbed his thigh. He looked dead serious, though Chanyeol didn’t find it easy as usual to read him.

“You’ll learns soon that I don’t talk much. My brother does most of the talking but he’s not here today, so…” Bang PD interrupted the sentence like that. Chanyeol nodded once, twice, but opted for staying silent for now. “I was impressed by your performance the other day, which is why I tried to talk to Do Kyungsoo and asked to see you separately.”

“Thank you for the opportunity,” Chanyeol replied at this point, trying to sound as calm as he could, as his insides went back to contorting oddly the more Yongguk kept them there on edge. 

“I see potential in you as a group right now. I have to be honest, I wouldn’t have approached you guys without the vocalist.” Yongguk made it clear. Everyone focused on Baekhyun, expecting him to answer anything. But Baekhyun didn’t, his eyes fixed to the floor as if he hadn’t heard a word.

“Ah-” Chanyeol started, as he felt the back of his neck go warm.  _ Fuck _ he thought. “Baekhyun only joined us recently. He was the one who created the first original song you heard,” Chanyeol explained. “We only helped arrange it.”

Baekhyun almost flinched upon hearing his name, and his eyes went to Chanyeol first, apologetic, then to the producer with an embarrassed smile. There was something odd in the way he was acting, but Chanyeol couldn’t put his finger on what it was exactly.

“That was impressive. Considering you can’t play the guitar or at least, you didn’t look like an expert.” Baekhyun nodded slightly.

“I’ve only started a few months ago, I really can’t play compared to my bandmates.” He sounded off, as if he’d lost the sparkle he had about the whole thing just a few days earlier. Chanyeol felt something twist in him as his nervousness slowly transitioned into worry, like a change of tone in the music. 

“Yeah, I could tell. But you have talent, and you had the passion and all the attributes you need to be on that stage. Plus your voice sounded good, harmonizing with his,” Bang PD continued as he pointed at Chanyeol. “The bassist was improvising most of the time too, weren’t you?”

Sehun jumped on the spot, one hand slowly going to scratch the back of his head. “I...yes...I usually improvise.”

“And why is that?”

“It works just fine like that, usually.” Sehun stopped as tigger stumbled all the way to him to lick his fingers. Sehun bit back a smile, looking back towards Yongguk as he scrambled around his desk to find something. “Wasn’t it good enough?”

“No, well…” Yongguk finally found what he was looking for. A notebook. He opened it and scribbled something on it. “It was good and that would work great in case you decide to improvise covers for your future shows. I think you can get even better than that, though.”

Sehun nodded. Chanyeol started playing with his own hands, as Yongguk scribbled down something else and then raised his gaze to them once again.

“The first thing we need to do is decide what genre you’re gonna go for. You only covered very specific groups, but your song was softer in the end, so deciding a more stable genre would be great.”

“We have other original works we have written before Byun Baekhyun joined the band, and they were closer in style to the bands we cover,” Chanyeol explained. He expected Baekhyun to chip in and say something more about his own song, but when he didn’t and Chanyeol met Kyungsoo’s confused gaze, he decided he was the one talking. “‘Of Cold Dark Days’ was a song Baekhyun had had in mind for a while, apparently. He sang it once and I liked it, so I decided to arrange it for him.”

Chanyeol summarized it like that, with enough confidence to sound convincing, though there was a lot more background to that song than what he’d let Yongguk know.

“And does this inspiration for songs come often, Baekhyun?” The producer asked Baekhyun directly this time. The singer looked around, lost, then seemed to tune in after a while.

“It wasn’t the first time, but it doesn’t come as often as I’d like.” His eyes went back to the floor immediately. 

_ Something’s very wrong _ , Chanyeol thought breathing in and throwing Sehun a concerned glance. The bassist just shrugged, as he kept playing with the dog as Tigger wagged his tail playfully.

“Well I guess it’ll have to come, at least to you guys as a group. What about your name, will you keep going as The Housewives? It’s not bad, I quite like it.”

“Ah,” It was Kyungsoo talking this time. “We recently decided to change it, since we got a new member and all. We opted for  _ Ginkgo Dawn _ , what do you think sir?”

There was a moment of silence and it looked like Yongguk was rolling the name at the tip of his tongue before. “It’s better. I like it more, definitely go for that one if you like it more.”

The door to the studio opened to Daehyun walking in with a bowl of water he put in a corner next to another one with some dog food in it. “Have you told them about the recording yet, Hyung?” He asked, unexpectedly sitting next to the producer with another chair. As soon as he sat, Tigger was on his lap.

“I haven’t yet. I was just about to, but you did it for me.” Yongguk’s voice, Chanyeol noticed, changed drastically when speaking to Daehyun. It was a lot more professional to them than he was when talking to what Chanyeol had assumed was his secretary and the contrast made him look slightly less intimidating.

“So as Daehyun was saying, how do you guys feel about recording ‘Of Cold Dark Days’ here once again, and maybe two more songs? The idea would be to put together a small EP with a couple covers, and a couple of your originals and sell the cassette around or give it for a free offer and see what happens.” He paused. “What do you say?”

A small EP would mean at least 4 songs, and giving it out for a small offer or selling it around would definitely help the band become more known. Which would mean more gigs for them, if they were lucky enough. Chanyeol was in awe, and his heart started thrumming for another reason than fear, then. It was enthusiasm, expectancy.

“It would be great, wouldn’t it?” He turned around to meet the others’ eyes, and he was met with equally thrilled faces. He was going to turn around and confirm with Bang PD, when he met Baekhyun’s gaze and all he could see was a small, faint smile. “It would be great…” he repeated, a bit more meekly, as he slowly averted his own gaze from the singer.

He had no idea what was going on with Baekhyun, but it was scaring him. He tried to quickly brainstorm every reason the singer could’ve had to be mad at him, but he could find none. The only odd part of their routines had been that encounter with Jongdeok, and yet Chanyeol could see absolutely nothing potentially wrong with it.

So, what the hell was going on?

“I’m going to meet you here again ...next week Monday?” Yongguk turned around to ask Daehyun for confirmation and the guy hummed as he kept petting the poodle. “Is next week monday ok for you? I don’t want to throw you into another live show yet, and I don’t have one I can offer you guys for now. So let’s try to make a good recording of those songs and try to see something real after that. Is that alright with you?”

Not that they could’ve said no. “It’s alright. And I think we all want to have a rather...rock? Feeling to our music?” Chanyeol proposed, with Kyungsoo’s and Sehun’s agreement from the side.

“I’d say you spontaneously go for a more alternative rock rather than the classic, considering Kyungsoo was mentioning you like to cover Pearl Jam or Nirvana,” Yongguk noted. “So I’d recommend going for that. What do you think?”

It made sense. And they could still change it afterwards, if they felt it didn’t belong to them anymore. They had something growing, there, and Chanyeol felt some sort of pride in being treated like a real musician and not like a teenager messing with music.

“You’re right,” Chanyeol ended up agreeing.

 

They bowed multiple times going out, after deciding with Yongguk what time they would meet the next week for the recording and it was Daehyun to take them to the door.

“You’ll meet Yongnam hyung next time and realize he’s the real scary one, Yongguk hyung is nice,” he insisted once again.

They all laughed to that, not sure what to reply and bowed to Daehyun too as they closed the door to leave.

 

.

  
  


Sehun and Kyungsoo walked towards Hangangjin station after having lunch with Chanyeol and Baekhyun in some diner selling burgers. Sehun spent half of the time insisting that burgers weren’t a real meal, but finally shut up when their food arrived and he was too busy eating to talk.

It was hot, to the point that Baekhyun had given up on the shirt and was rocking the white t-shirt he’d worn underneath it with splotches of sweat spreading onto his lower back. Even his hair curled up a little on his nape. Chanyeol had kept the shirt, but he wasn’t in much better conditions. 

The bus back to Jaegidong was crowded and even if they managed to stand against one of the open windows it was like being trapped in an oven surrounded by people equally sweaty and equally eager to stand closest as possible to the window. 

After Baekhyun being almost shoved on some lady’s lap by a middle aged man in a hurry and an overweight teenager, they had resorted to Park Chanyeol standing between him and the crowd— people were less eager to try and shove Chanyeol around.

Baekhyun was quiet. He had his eyes closed as the almost non existent breeze from the window gave him some relief. One drop of sweat rolled down his temple to his cheek and Baekhyun seemed to not even realize. Chanyeol could almost feel the human heat radiating from the other boy’s body and it was hot and hard to breathe in such a packed bus. However he focused on Baekhyun’s nape, on what he could see of his side profile and the beads of perspiration which had gathered on the edge of his upper lip and somehow that made the whole bus ride worth it. 

Someone pushed Chanyeol’s forward as the bus came to a stop and he struggled not to completely end up on Baekhyun, holding on the handles hanging from the ceiling for dear life. “Sorry,” he muttered, after bumping into him just slightly. “Are you ok?” He continued tentatively, almost shy.

Something about Baekhyun was off, and Chanyeol just couldn’t keep on living with that doubt tickling the back of his brain. Baekhyun turned to him, almost resting his head on Chanyeol’s shoulder— he was sort of smiling.  
  
“The heat doesn’t bother me as much as the cold does,” he explained and distractedly rubbed off some sweat from his nose. “I just sweat a lot, I’m sorry. Do I stink?”

Chanyeol snorted, distractedly looking at his own almost drenched shirt. “Nah, you dont. I was just...You were very quiet and I was wondering if you would faint again.”

Baekhyun’s head rested there, sort of balanced on Chanyeol’s shoulder as the guitarist clutched one of the handles. “I’m perfectly fine, ParkChan, don’t get too worried. It was a one time thing, last time. I swear I never get ill.”

Chanyeol breathed in and exhaled slowly, looking outside the window. The city unraveled in front of his eyes like some camera film, the panorama almost bending and oscillating with the bus and because of the wave of heat despite the sky looking almost silver-like.

“Were you happy?” Baekhyun asked suddenly— his eyes were closed again and he’d shifted his weight a little so it would be on Chanyeol, at least part of it. “Today, with the producer. Did he meet your expectations?”

It took a while for Chanyeol to answer; exactly a few bumps on the road and three ladies yelling to each other from one part of the bus to the other. “I don’t know what I was expecting. I didn’t expect a producer to notice us, for a start.”

“Well you’re good, it’s obvious that he did.” There was a bit of detachment in the  _ you _ Baekhyun used but Chanyeol didn’t have the time to think  _ what’s up with that? _ because Baekhyun was talking again. “And he talked to Kyungsoo first too. Kyungsoo is good at convincing people, you know that.”

Chanyeol shrugged, looking down at Baekhyun’s face and focusing on the shape of his ears. “Well, I mean they noticed you first. You’re our token or something like that,” he noted, and he saw Baekhyun’s lips curl up even if he didn’t open his eyes.

“I guess. Even if I wasn’t that useful back there today,” he replied. 

Something about his voice, the stiffness of it, made it sound like he was forcing it to be sarcastic, rather than falling in the usual natural playfulness of his words. 

Chanyeol’s hand went to Baekhyun’s waist when the bus driver didn’t avoid a bigger hole on the street and everyone found themselves almost jumping. Baekhyun grimaced, his head whiplashing forward as he tried to reach for the window and hold himself up and away from the old lady stuck in the seat in front of him.

“Tell me we get off at the next stop,” Baekhyun muttered as he inhaled deeply and closed his eyes again. He managed to turn around, half holding on Chanyeol’s forearm and lower his head until it fit right under Chanyeol’s neck. “ _ Now _ I’m not ok.”

People were too busy paying attention to their own business to notice Chanyeol patting Baekhyun’s back. “Nauseous?” 

“Mh…” 

They finally jumped off with Baekhyun almost running out of the bus and Chanyeol stumbling behind him. The singer stopped in the middle of the sidewalk to squat with his head between his hands while Chanyeol walked up to him slowly. “C’mon, you’re not gonna throw up are you?”

“I’m not,” Baekhyun replied after a sigh. “It just felt like I was going to, in the bus.” He turned his head around with a weak grin, and Chanyeol grabbed his hand to help him stand. 

The hasuk-jib wasn’t that close to the bus stop and it felt even worse with the afternoon heat wrapping them like an unwanted blanket. There was almost nobody to be seen in the streets, when Chanyeol and Baekhyun started walking back — Baekhyun flapping his t-shirt and trying to get some air inside of it and Chanyeol finally getting rid of his shirt.

“Baekhyun-ah,” Chanyeol started, looking anywhere but Baekhyun as they hurried inside an alleyway too small for the sun to get in. “Was everything alright today?”

“Mh?” Baekhyun looked surprised for a moment, then he smiled as if he’d been caught redhanded. He shook his head slowly, and Chanyeol recognized the expression from when Baekhyun had something bothering him, but had no intention of sharing it.

Byun Baekhyun was one frustrating idiot and Chanyeol had no idea how to deal with it. Chanyeol was used to people asking for help if they needed some, but Baekhyun wasn’t  _ people _ . Baekhyun would rather bang his head on a wall until he found a solution than ask for help, he was stupidly stubborn like that.

“You were quiet today. The producer was impressed by you. He wanted to meet Byun Baekhyun rather than us, but you barely replied to his questions,” Chanyeol stressed, carding a hand through his hair.

“Well, you’re the band leader… I know I wasn’t that useful but-”

“Don’t give me the  _ you’re the band leader _ bullshit. You didn’t care about that when you went all rockstar on that stage, and I was the band leader back then too,” Chanyeol clipped, his eyes darting to Baekhyun as the singer looked down to the ground.

“That was the stage… today was different.”

Chanyeol stopped, taking a deep breath and Baekhyun went two, three steps ahead before realizing he was alone. “Baekhyun-ah,” Chanyeol called again.

When the singer met Chanyeol’s eyes, the guitarist felt bad for a moment.  _ What the hell is it? _ He wanted to scream, he was screaming inside his head.  _ Why won’t you let me in for once? _ . Chanyeol just palmed his face with a groan. “Why are you lying to me? Have I done something wrong? Are you mad?”

Baekhyun was taken aback for a moment, then shook his head a couple of times and closed the distance between them quickly, only to stamp a long, lingering kiss on Chanyeol’s lip. It wasn’t a kiss Chanyeol was expecting, nor one he  _ wanted _ . It felt like Baekhyun was kissing him to shut him up, rather than because he genuinely wanted to kiss.

“You didn’t reply,” Chanyeol murmured against Baekhyun’s lips. Baekhyun froze, then smiled into the kiss and pecked the corner of the guitarist’s mouth once more. Then, he drew back.

“I don’t know what to say, Chanyeol-ah. I was tired and it’s hot and that guy’s pretty intimidating. I’m sorry if I wasn’t the most talkative of the idiots in there, but we were all on edge and I was just as afraid to fuck up as you were.”

Baekhyun turned around and started walking on his own. “I’m just worried, alright?” Chanyeol shared, trying to sound sad rather than angry. And it was true, he wasn’t mad. He  _ cared _ for Baekhyun, he didn’t want him to face his problems all alone.

Baekhyun’s shoulders slumped visibly, and he turned around just slightly so that Chanyeol could see only part of his face and that soft smile of his. “It’s fine, Yeol-ah. I’m a big boy, mh?”

Baekhyun gestured to Chanyeol to hurry up and follow him and that’s what the guitarist did, though he just knew something wasn’t ringing right. All he could do, however, was trust Baekhyun. And maybe, after all, it really was just him over reacting. Maybe Bang PD’s aura had put Chanyeol more on edge than he’d thought.

_ Must be that _ he thought.  _ I must be worried for nothing _ .

They had almost reached the hasuk-jib when Baekhyun stopped, pointing at the road going up towards the canal and the university. “I’m gonna take care of something, you go in first.”

“Where are you going?” Chanyeol asked, glancing at the sky getting darker and darker with clouds that didn’t promise anything good. 

“Something to do at school, I’ll be back soon. I told you, I’m a big boy and you’re acting like Junki hyung. Don’t do that.”

The words slapped Chanyeol in the face with enough strength to leave him speechless for a while. “I...is worrying about you acting like him? Because in that case I’ll keep doing that.” Chanyeol almost sounded offended.

He didn’t know how to feel, being compared to Baekhyun’s ex lover, much more being told he acted like him. Also, he didn’t know what to think about this name and this person coming up so frequently in their conversations. He didn’t like it, and yet at the same time  _ the guy’s dead _ he kept telling himself, and he couldn’t be jealous of him nor force Baekhyun not to talk about him.

Baekhyun laughed, his laugh a little empty. “Yeah, that’s exactly what it is. I’m not sure if I like it or not. It makes you look cute, that part I’ll admit.”

Baekhyun started walking away, when Chanyeol called him once again. “Is everything really alright?”

Baekhyun nodded, waving his hand away with a smile. Maybe it was really just Chanyeol overreacting.

 

The house was empty as usual when he went back. The other people sharing the hasuk-jib were rarely there, unless there was a football match or something similar to watch together. That’s usually when also Chanyeol and Baekhyun would join and the hyungs there would pay for chicken or fruit. It wasn’t bad, and Chanyeol liked the house exactly for how silent it was.

That day though, as he walked up the stairs alone, it felt even quieter than it usually was and like he was missing something, or someone next to him. It was stupid. Baekhyun couldn’t possibly be sticking to his side all the time, but Chanyeol was worried and there was that voice bugging him in the very last corner of his thoughts that told him he was right.

He tried to silence it with some studying, sitting cross legged on his chair by the window— the desk submerged by books and papers Chanyeol had already studied and already forgotten after taking his exams.

The pitapat of the rain lightly hitting the window glass started around thirty minutes after Chanyeol had flopped onto his desk, his head buried into his arms. It was a soothing sound at first, it had sounded like soft steps in Chanyeol’s drowsiness. He wasn’t sure when he’d slipped into dreamland, but he was thinking of Baekhyun’s hands, and his lips. The images flashed like confused pieces of memories behind his closed eyes. Baekhyun’s profile, the darker spots on his cheekbones, the curve of his neck.

A thunder made the sky tremble outside and Chanyeol jolted awake with it. He looked around in sudden shock, before realizing he’d left the window partially open and that the papers on the desk had fallen to the floor because of the wind.

It was pouring and it was humid but already chill enough for Chanyeol to have goosebumps and feel a bit cold. He stood up, gathering the papers around him and distractedly stacking them on the desk. It was only early afternoon, yet it looked like it was almost evening when Chanyeol glanced outside. A lightning lit the whole street like an exploding sun and Chanyeol’s heart clenched, knowing Baekhyun was somewhere outside, without an umbrella.

Where did he even have to go all of a sudden? 

It took a moment for him to freeze as the thought formed inside his head. Chanyeol felt a pang of guilt hit him in the chest as he realized Baekhyun’s reaction had probably been a consequence to the guitarist questioning him so insistently. It must’ve been that, considering how suddenly he’d left and how vaguely bitter his words had felt.

Chanyeol sighed. He hadn’t even thought, when he’d kissed Baekhyun. Something inside his brain had clicked, that day on stage. He’d thought  _ he’s lovely _ and he’d just kissed him because that was what felt right. And even after that, Baekhyun’s lips against his felt  _ right _ , exactly where they needed to be— Baekhyun’s head fit nicely in the hollow of his shoulder and Chanyeol had thought he’d never felt happier.

_ Was it the same for Baekhyun? _ The thought kept coming up every now and then. 

That restlessness when Chanyeol looked at Baekhyun, that tingling of his soul he felt deep inside whenever they were close. It had been like that from the beginning, and where it had made him mad and snappy at the beginning, now it gave him peace. That helplessness he felt, confirmed his feelings for Baekhyun and it was reassuring to him.  _ He was in love with Baekhyun _ , with his present, his scars and all the stupid details of him.

_ What about Baekhyun? _

Chanyeol finally snapped out of his daze, hurrying to close the window when yet another gust of wind got inside, whipping him in the face. That’s when he saw someone run towards the house, from the opposite side of the road. Chanyeol knew who it was without even looking.

Baekhyun looked up to the window. He was completely drenched, holding his white shirt closed as if he was trying to protect something -a book?- underneath it. The shirt, his pants, even Baekhyun’s hair was soaked. Chanyeol huffed quickly and opened the window again when Baekhyun waved his hand at him, as if it was a perfect sunny day and he had all the time in the world. That smile, though, it was genuine. It make Chanyeol’s breath itch and his heart warm up, no matter how upset Baekhyun had been earlier, no matter how many things he was keeping from Chanyeol.

“What the hell are you doing?!” Chanyeol yelled, leaning out of the window a little. Raindrops hit his face, but he didn’t care at this point. Baekhyun laughed and stopped waving. He just stood there for a moment, looking at Chanyeol— the humidity had fogged up his specs and his fringe was sticking to his forehead. “Baekhyun-ah, come up!” Chanyeol yelled once more.

The singer nodded and sprinted towards the front door, disappearing from Chanyeol’s field of vision. The guitarist turned around, his heart suddenly drumming loudly in his chest for some reason, like a bird in a cage. He walked quickly to the door to open it when he heard the front door closing and Baekhyun tossing his shoes to the floor, at the entrance. 

“Baekhyun-ah,” he called for no real reason. He received a hum back, before hearing the sound of Baekhyun’s naked feet on the floor as he walked to the second floor, where his room was. 

“I’m here,” he replied, appearing in the corridor. Chanyeol snorted, noticing the small water puddles he left behind at every single step. 

“You’ll catch a cold again,” Chanyeol said. He tried to control his heart, wished for it to slow down, but Baekhyun removed his glasses and tried to dry them off with his equally wet shirt and Chanyeol had to physically force himself to look away and give him his back. “Get a towel or something,” he suggested, moving a few steps inside his room.

He expected to hear the door to Baekhyun’s room click open, but that didn’t happen. What did happen instead, was that Chanyeol heard the door to his own room close and saw Baekhyun rush past him, tossing the book he was trying to save from the rain on the mattress. That’s when he started to fumble with the buttons of his shirt, in a hurry.

“What are you doing?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

“It’s cold,” Baekhyun replied simply, groaning when the buttons wouldn’t open. He was shaking, his teeth tattering as he tried to get rid of his clothes as quickly as he could. Chanyeol just stared at him, his mouth suddenly going dry. 

Baekhyun took his t-shirt off and tossed that one carelessly as well. Chanyeol had never seen him naked but he’d seen other guys naked before and his eyes had never lingered on them like they were doing with Baekhyun. It baffled him how strong the instinct to go closer and touch him was. Baekhyun was lean, thin and a lot more tanned than Chanyeol had imagined. He glanced up at Chanyeol once, quickly, and had continued to strip as if he wasn’t affected at all.

Chanyeol’s neck, ears, even his whole face felt warmer when he noticed Baekhyun was taking his pants off as well. He was an idiot. getting all flustered for a guy stripping in front of him, like a teenager having a crush. He shook his head, trying to avert his own gaze from the singer to the floor. “You’re making a mess,” he muttered.

He picked up the t-shirt, then the shirt and the pants that followed soon after and he only noticed Baekhyun getting under his covers from the corners of his eyes.

“I told you,” Baekhyun repeated and now the fact that he was shaking transferred to his voice as well. “It’s fucking cold.”

Chanyeol chuckled low as he focused on Baekhyun wrapped in his blanket like a survivor from some natural disaster. “I told you it was gonna rain, what did you have to do so urgently?” 

The other boy only hinted at the book with a flick of his chin, while Chanyeol took a towel out of a box in his wardrobe and sat on the corner of the bed. He reached for Baekhyun’s glasses first and Baekhyun let him as usual, his eyes fluttering close. 

“Was that book so important?” Chanyeol asked, his eyes stopping far more than necessary on the skin of Baekhyun’s chest, peeking through the folds of the blanket. He rubbed the singer’s glasses dry, but before giving them back he covered Baekhyun’s head with the towel and started to dry his hair too.

“I…” Baekhyun breathed out, his face partially covered by the towel. He seemed to relax under Chanyeol’s touch. “I needed to be alone for a while,” he murmured. 

Chanyeol hummed in understanding, taking the towel back and pressing it on Baekhyun’s skin or what was at least visible — his neck, his shoulders. He swallowed and prayed for Baekhyun not to notice how affected he was.

He’d touched Baekhyun before, but there had never been so much skin. Baekhyun started touching Chanyeol’s forearm distractedly while the guitarist dried him off meticulously, maybe more using it as an excuse to touch Baekhyun more, than to actually get him dry. The touch spread on his skin like a line of fire and cold at the same time. Baekhyun snorted when he noticed the goosebumps on Chanyeol’s skin and his eyes focused on him, without getting rid of that smirk on his face. Chanyeol followed the curve of Baekhyun’s neck as he tilted his head to the side and slowly dragged his eyes to meet the other boy’s.

It was too much. He had to look down as quickly as possible, drawing his hands back and getting up. Chanyeol walked a couple of steps to the middle of the room, panting as he squatted— his eyes close.

When the music — Radiohead, Pablo Honey— started, Chanyeol hadn’t even heard Baekhyun’s soft step on the floor. 

“I was gonna ask for some music, but you walked away,” Baekhyun murmured, resting one hand on Chanyeol’s shoulder and squeezing it lightly— Chanyeol could almost touch the playfulness in his voice. He slowly stood, as Baekhyun retreated a couple of steps. He was still grinning, but it wasn’t teasing or anything. He was hiding something else that Chanyeol couldn’t read exactly.

“Why music?” the guitarist asked. His ears were pulsing red and he wanted to hide his face somewhere, so he could look at Baekhyun and not be seen.  _ Baekhyun was beautiful _ .

The singer shrugged lightly, taking one step forward, closer to Chanyeol. He was still wrapped in the blanket, his hair sticking in all directions. He’d left his glasses on the bed and Chanyeol’s eyes were fixed on him, on the indentation that his glasses’ frame had left on his nose— his skin looked softer there.

Baekhyun smirked at him and closed the distance between them as ‘You’ played on Chanyeol’s cassette recorder.  _ You are the sun and moon and stars, you are. I, could never run away from you _ it said. Baekhyun cupped Chanyeol’s cheek, letting go of the blanket that slowly fell to the floor with a soft thump. Chanyeol tilted his head so that he could press his cheek onto Baekhyun’s palm, then turn his head slightly and kiss there softly. 

Baekhyun laughed breathily and shook in a full body shiver when Chanyeol circled his waist and slid his hands up the expanse of the other boy’s back. He kissed Baekhyun’s temple first, when Baekhyun shifted his weight on him a little. 

“ _ You try at working out chaotic things _ ” Chanyeol sang lowly into Baekhyun’s ear. His accent was terrible and he even chuckled a bit at it, but he pulled Baekhyun closer despite how hot he felt and how there was way too much of Baekhyun he could touch— it was sending his senses haywire.

“ _ And why should I believe myself, not you? _ ” He kept singing, rocking slowly left and right, as if they were awkwardly dancing when nobody could see.

“Wow, you’re really serenading me,” Baekhyun teased, as he circled Chanyeol’s neck and met his gaze with an amused, crooked smile. “You almost sound cool, Park Chanyeol,” Baekhyun whispered against his lips before kissing him long, soft.

He pressed himself against Chanyeol, the guitarist half groaning into the kiss and keeping Baekhyun there, as close as possible. He wanted all the contact he could have, and even the fabric of his own t-shirt was too rough, too thick. He felt hot, and it wasn’t the summer, or the fact that Baekhyun’s skin was warmer now. It was how much he wanted him, how much he wanted to push Baekhyun down and keep kissing him until he ran out of air.

Chanyeol gasped into the kiss when Baekhyun guided the guitarist’s hands lower until Chanyeol was touching Baekhyun’s behind. Chanyeol frowned, as if short circuiting, and he realized he couldn’t do this anymore.

He jerked back, panting, still feeling the softness of Baekhyun’s lips on his. He wanted those lips back, his whole body was screaming for him to go back to Baekhyun. Baekhyun was taken aback, looking at Chanyeol with a mix of a confused and accusing gaze— his lips glistened because of all the kissing. 

His shoulders were heaving unevenly as he tried to catch his breath. “I wanna do it,” he said bluntly, looking Chanyeol in the eyes. 

It was too much. Chanyeol rushed up to him and cupped his face between his hands, kissing him a little harsher than he’d done before, then deepening the kiss as Baekhyun moaned and then smiled into it. “You wanna do it?” Baekhyun asked, speaking his words against Chanyeol’s mouth.

Chanyeol’s mind wasn’t working. His hands were still cupping Baekhyun’s face because he was nervous and embarrassed, and the pressure in his pants was definitely there, he couldn’t ignore it forever. He nodded a couple of times, inhaling. 

“Yeah?” Baekhyun asked again, pressing his lips almost tenderly to Chanyeol’s and grazing his bottom lip with the tip of his tongue. Chanyeol shivered again and closed his eyes, his forehead touching Baekhyun’s.

“Do you know how to?” Baekhyun didn’t sound nervous or as caught in the haze of the kisses as Chanyeol was. He sounded like a in a hurry, like he wanted to get over it fast. 

Chanyeol shook his head. “I don’t. You do though, right?” There was a pause, like  a breath suspended mid air. Baekhyun looked elsewhere. “Yeah,” he said.

“Do you want to…?” Chanyeol left the sentence hanging there, as his cheeks went flame red again and Baekhyun chuckled, walking to Chanyeol’s closet and putting on a t-shirt very fast— Chanyeol was almost disappointed. 

“You really have no idea how things work between men, do you?” It was clear that he didn’t mean to sound mocking, but rather playful. “I’ll be right back.”

He said, and Chanyeol thought it was some kind of joke, looking down at the obvious bulge in his own pants. Baekhyun walked out of the room and Chanyeol heard the door to the bathroom close, downstairs. He waited a few minutes in the room, then walked outside as well, sliding down the wall in front of the toilet before sitting with his legs open and his elbows on his knees.

He was torn between thinking it was all a joke and being excited. He could almost still feel Baekhyun’s skin under his fingertips, the shape of his body pressed against his. He exhaled quickly and he waited, digging holes into the white door of the bathroom.

Baekhyun came out a while later and stopped on the door for a moment. He bursted out laughing, much to Chanyeol’s dismay. “What are you doing here…? You  _ really _ have no idea, I can’t believe it,” Baekhyun kept repeating between chuckles.  
  
He caught Chanyeol’s hand and started dragging him up the stairs to his room in the attic once again. Chanyeol just followed, his eyes following every single one of Baekhyun’s movements, as every other sound, every other feeling was muffled and all he could see was Baekhyun, all he could think of was him.

Baekhyun sat on the mattress, pulling Chanyeol on himself until he was lying down and Chanyeol was hovering over him. He started tugging at Chanyeol’s t-shirt first until Chanyeol helped him peel it off and he smiled contently, pushing himself up a little to kiss Chanyeol’s lips first, then slowly drag the kiss to his cheek, to the shape of his ear.

Chanyeol’s hands were shaking as he fumbled to get Baekhyun’s t-shirt off until all that was left were his boxers. They were still shaking as Chanyeol sat on his heels and Baekhyun guided his hands down his chest and lower, lower. 

The singer circled Chanyeol’s waist with his legs, pushing him closer with the back of his feet. “Come here,” he murmured. He didn’t look so smug anymore, nor in a hurry. His cheeks, all the way down to his neck was dusted pink.

Chanyeol kissed him again, getting rid of his own pants. He tentatively rolled down on Baekhyun, while kissing him slow, languid, and Baekhyun shivered and breathed in at the pressure. Baekhyun’s skin was so warm as it slid against Chanyeol’s, Baekhyun’s breaths were rhythmic and so quiet— Chanyeol’s heart was so loud in his ears.

He helped peel off Baekhyun’s boxers as well, while Baekhyun tugged at the guitarist’s, laughing a bit as he uncovered Chanyeol’s ass and even pinched it. Baekhyun laughing naked under him was something Chanyeol had never thought he’d see and he hadn’t know he would want to see so much.

He could stay there and let Baekhyun laugh all he wanted, fondly. 

“Hyun-ah,” Chanyeol called as Baekhyun was gliding his hands down his arms, on his shoulders. “I have no idea what to do,” he admitted, and subsequently hoped for the earth to open and swallow him alive.

Baekhyun sighed, pushing himself up on one elbow and hugging Chanyeol close with the other. “I know,” he murmured, pressing his lips to Chanyeol’s skin, closer to his hair. When he retreated it was to reach for the bottle of lubricant he’d fished out of Chanyeol’s wardrobe together with the t-shirt he’d worn to the bathroom. “You’ve had sex with girls, right?”

Chanyeol didn’t want to think about that when he had Baekhyun like that in front of his eyes, but he nodded. 

“It’s not that different,” Baekhyun said, and he sounded so concentrated while he coated Chanyeol’s dick with lube and Chanyeol trembled harshly, squinting his eyes trying not to move away from the touch. Baekhyun didn’t laugh at that, but Chanyeol was almost sure he was grinning. “Just…” He started, lying back down. “Go slowly, alright?”

Chanyeol nodded, trying to regain control over his actions as Baekhyun relaxed on the sheets and spread his legs. “Are you sure you don’t want to be the one on top?” Chanyeol asked once more. He wasn’t convinced yet, he wasn’t confident he could do this and do it well enough to please Baekhyun. It was driving him crazy, how much he’d fallen for him.

Baekhyun shook his head and reached out with both hands; he wanted Chanyeol close. He wanted to hug, to be hugged. Chanyeol wasn’t sure what it was, but he complied. 

“It would take long for you to do all the stuff you need to do to bottom,” Baekhyun replied, pecking Chanyeol’s cheek. “Plus, I quite like bottoming. It feels good.”

It should’ve made Chanyeol feel better, as he coated his fingers with lube, his face still extremely close to Baekhyun’s, but it didn’t. It made him more nervous, as he pushed his fingers between Baekhyun’s asscheeks and just grazed there to get the lubricant where it needed to be. “Tell me if I do something wrong,” he pleaded, and rested his forehead against Baekhyun’s shoulder as he entered him slowly.

Baekhyun gripped at his back almost immediately with a harsh intake of breath, holding onto him as if he was falling down a cliff. Chanyeol tried to go in as slowly and smoothly as he could, no matter how much concentration it needed. Baekhyun’s knitted brows and his biting down on his bottom lip were a clear indication that it hurt and Chanyeol didn’t want to make it even worse.

He stopped moving at some point and he waited, until the tension in Baekhyun’s legs subsided a little. Baekhyun breathed out slowly, “Kiss me?” he asked, and Chanyeol leaned in again and did it. He was glad for the kiss, because his brain had completely melted and he wasn’t thinking at that point, as the pleasure and the instinct to just ram inside Baekhyun hit him like a slap in the face.

It was Baekhyun guiding the kiss, Chanyeol wouldn’t have managed. It was a desperate kiss, one of those that leave you breathless and gasping for air afterwards. Those kisses that made you think of nothing and white out everything else. Baekhyun’s tongue slid against Chanyeol’s as he carded his fingers through the guitarist’s hair and pulled at it lightly. “Move,” he whispered, guiding Chanyeol’s movements pushing him in with his feet.

Chanyeol had had sex before with other people, but none of those times had felt as intimate as this one. He was still terrified as he started picking up a rhythm, trying to conciliate it with Baekhyun’s kisses, with touching Baekhyun’s hair, with focusing on the details; on how Baekhyun’s face scrunched up every now and then and relaxed immediately after.

Chanyeol pushed a little harder at some point, unable to hold himself back and that made Baekhyun moan a little louder, a mix between pain and pleasure. Chanyeol didn’t know which one of the two, but he panicked. He didn’t want to hurt Baekhyun, he didn’t even know if what he was doing was right. He was freaking out. He halted and Baekhyun’s eyes flickered open in confusion, his legs already wrapping around Chanyeol’s waist again, to force him to move. 

“Are you ok?” Chanyeol asked, panting. He swallowed. “Did I do something wrong? Are you in pain?”

“What the hell are you doing?” Baekhyun asked, his breath ragged, his face flushed. “Why did you stop? Just-” He tried to move by himself, desperately trying to reach that same peak of pleasure again. He moaned, this time a bit more frustrated that in pain. “Chanyeol just move,” he urged him.

Chanyeol started moving slowly again, sitting in front of Baekhyun as the other boy was lying down with an arm covering his face and his legs propped up on Chanyeol’s thighs. Chanyeol’s heart felt like bursting every single time Baekhyun moaned or breathed in harshly. Chanyeol grazed his thighs, his waist, almost like a sloppy tentative massage, and he kissed the tips of Baekhyun’s fingers one by one as he kept thrusting in in a slow, constant rhythm.

He helped Baekhyun turn around at some point until he was lying face down and Chanyeol was on him as he kept pushing in. Baekhyun’s moans turned into rushed breaths and gasps, and he searched blindly for Chanyeol’s arms to wrap around him. “You ok?” Chanyeol asked breathily as he slid his arms under Baekhyun’s until the other boy managed to intertwine their fingers. 

_ Feels good _ Baekhyun murmured with a low moan, as he spread his legs a little further and his gasps almost sounded like sighs at this point.

It was close, way too close and there was too much skin, too much contact and yet Chanyeol wanted more, he felt greedy like that. He wanted to hear more of Baekhyun’s voice, of his breaths and his whispers to go faster or to slow down. Baekhyun whispered Chanyeol’s name as he craned back his head, searching for the guitarist’s lips.

He half smiled tiredly, nuzzling his face against Chanyeol. It felt intimate, private, Chanyeol’s breath hitched because he didn’t know how to react to the amount of sensations he was feeling all at once. All he could do as Baekhyun moaned again, shaking as he hadn’t done until that moment, was hold him closer and bring him all the way to the edge, before throwing himself down with him.

 

.

  
  


Baekhyun drooled in his sleep. Chanyeol knew already, but it was always funny to notice, especially since he was drooling on Chanyeol’s sternum and snoring just a bit, softly. Chanyeol curled a strand of his hair around his finger and let it go, only to move to graze Baekhyun’s cheek with the back of his index finger. It was almost evening and the room was just dimly lit from the lights coming from the window. The Radiohead cassette had stopped playing at some point.

“Baekhyun-ah…” Chanyeol called, not even sure what he was gonna say.

Baekhyun groaned in his sleep, then shifted until his head was tucked under Chanyeol’s head and he exhaled content. “Five more minutes,” he mumbled.

Chanyeol chuckled and hugged him tighter.    
  



	13. Track 12

**Track 12**

 

The Bang Twins studio had a completely different atmosphere from behind the screen of the insonorized area where Ginkgo Dawn had been told to arrange in a semicircle. Bang Yongguk and his twin Yongnam were sitting on the other side of the room and it was sort of spooky to look at them, given that they were practically identical, except that Yongguk was a bit thinner, with a completely different clothing style from his brother.

The twins had arranged the workplace for the band already. They’d wired up all the microphones, headphones and all the recording instruments adapting to what Kyungsoo had used as a configuration when he’d recorded their sloppy version of the demo. Yongnam had double checked all the cables and wires for buzzes and eventual echoes before Ginkgo Dawn got into the recording room, then he made sure that Chanyeol’s guitar and Sehun’s bass were plugged in properly.

Kyungsoo was trying to get an impression of the drum kit he was going to record on, since for obvious reasons Yongguk had made it pretty clear they weren’t going to spend an hour for Kyungsoo to set his own drum up, nor Kyungsoo had any intention to do that.

The studio was just the same as last time, minus the empty ramen containers and papers everywhere on the recording apparatus. Chanyeol wasn’t even sure what he was looking at, as Yongguk was changing more settings on the workstation and Yongnam kept suggesting more stuff to his brother, pointing at various parts of the desk.

Tigger had been left with Daehyun in the other room, apparently— it was not to risk accidents during the recording, Yongnam had explained.

“Are we waiting for Byun Baekhyun or do we want to record the band part without him?” Yongguk asked through the interfon connecting the two rooms.

Chanyeol swallowed, looking at the clock hanging on the wall on the opposite side of the screen. Baekhyun was late. He’d said he had something to do for school and though he’d known about the recording for weeks, he hadn’t been able to postpone whatever he had to do.

Chanyeol looked at the others with a frown. “What do we do?” He asked, glancing at the door once more hoping for a miracle.

“Don’t you live together? Why is he not here yet?” Kyungsoo questioned in response, stopping his warming up session to stare at Chanyeol. He didn’t sound angry, not yet at least, but there was definitely an annoyed hue to his voice.

“They’d been insistent on the phone for us to arrive on time…” Sehun murmured after. “But it’s Baekhyun hyung, I’m sure he has a reason. And he’s probably on his way here already.”

Chanyeol knew Sehun was trying to reassure him. He knew how important this was for Chanyeol and it was clear that his tentative to defend Baekhyun was not to have Chanyeol being mad at Baekhyun when they had to work on something so important.

“Can’t we get a little bit more time?” Chanyeol asked, talking to Yongguk. The producer leaned back on his chair, glancing at his brother for a moment.

“You guys can warm up a little, play what you want or scream in the mic. You’re too tense. I told you, it’s fine,” Yongguk shared, and he stood up, pressing a button on the desk.

“He’s recording,” Kyungsoo noted from behind them, as a red light on their side of the screen lit up and they all went completely silent.

“He’s what?” Chanyeol blurted out, looking at the light, then at Yongguk leaving the room and closing the door behind him. Yongnam was busy reading their lyrics, circling and underlining stuff here and there. He glanced up for a moment.

“Yeah, it’s recording, we told you, warm up. Yongguk went to get some tea.”

Chanyeol exhaled, as the clock kept ticking away and Baekhyun still wasn’t there.

“Are we gonna do this or not?” Kyungsoo asked, and he didn’t wait for a response as he pushed the snare and started with a punching rhythm on his drum it, with his eyes closed. It was the beginning of a song Chanyeol knew, though he didn’t remember the title. Even Sehun was confused at first, then seemed to get the inspiration as he leaned into his bass and started picking the strings as he always did.

Chanyeol joined at last, his playing sloppy, nervous. He couldn’t help but look at the door worryingly. Yongguk had been nice. Despite reminding them more than one time how he didn’t want to waste even one minute on the phone, he’d just hummed in understanding when they’d pointed out that Baekhyun wasn’t there.

Kyungsoo changed the rhythm abruptly and Chanyeol’s hands stumbled on the fret until he just stopped and bit his bottom lip, ruffling his own hair in frustration.

“Hyung, c’mon” Sehun encouraged him with a weak smile.

Chanyeol nodded, following the melody of the second song Kyungsoo had started. It was some odd rendition of Sweet Child O’Mine by Guns N Roses, a song that Chanyeol adored play and to sing during their live shows when they were still the Housewives. That day, though, he’d never played so bad.

“Wow, Baekhyun would do a better job than you’re doing right now, Park Chan.” Kyungsoo said as he stopped playing and dabbed the sweat off his forehead with the back of his sleeve.

“Baekhyun should bring his ass here,” Chanyeol muttered, unslinging his guitar and bolting through the door to the other side of the room.

He wasn’t even mad. He was so worried that he was nauseous, because there was definitely something going on and yet Baekhyun kept avoiding the question. He thought the problem had been solved, or that it was just a passing thing but it had been a week already and when he looked at Baekhyun, it felt like looking at the shadow of the boy he was in love with.

Yongnam paused the recording, raising an eyebrow as Chanyeol stopped next to him for no reason. “Already done? I thought you were messing up pretty bad in there bud.”

Chanyeol shook his head, walking a few steps away from the producer. “Can I make a phone call?”

Yongnam showed him the phone, a white old thing in a corner just as Yongguk started moving back to the studio.

“It’s fine,” he reassured again, which made Chanyeol feel even more guilty; the guy had given them a chance, and they were wasting it for a reason Chanyeol had no control over and no knowledge of.

He quickly dialled the number for the hasuk-jib, hoping that for some reason Baekhyun was there to pick up just so that he could yell, vent at him all that was bottled up inside. The phone rang once and the front door opened.

Chanyeol heard Daehyun’s voice before Baekhyun’s pants and his hurried steps towards the studio. “What the hell Baekhyun, take a breath. They’re not going anywhere,” Daehyun was following him as Baekhyun stumbled into the corridor without replying.

He was panting, looking like he’d ran three marathons before getting there. The black t-shirt he was wearing was sticking to his skin along with his hair; even the guitar on his back was a bit lopsided.

Baekhyun looked up meeting Chanyeol’s eyes with what looked like both surprise and a good amount of guilt. “I’m so sorry,” he said, walking up to him as Chanyeol put down the phone.

“Where were you?” Chanyeol asked, trying not to sound too pissed and failing miserably. He started heading towards the studio again as Baekhyun followed him still trying to breathe regularly.

“He’s here,” Daehyun announced, preceding them into the room. He sounded bubbly and in a good mood, or maybe it was his way to save the situation. Whatever it was, Chanyeol was glad he was there as Baekhyun bowed a lot of times both to Yongnam and Yongguk.

He even kept bowing once he entered the recording room, though Kyungsoo and Sehun didn’t seem to have minded his tardiness too much.

“Something came up,” he explained. He rested his head against Chanyeol’s shoulder as Yongnam gave them a cup of tea each, before they could effectively start recording.

Chanyeol kept sliding his hand down Baekhyun’s spine, as he noticed how the singer’s heart was still thrumming and how his breathing hadn’t slowed down yet. “Was it solved at least?”

“I tried to get myself out of it but they kept insisting...It was sunbaes, I couldn’t tell them no.” Baekhyun explained. “I’m still very sorry, I know how important this is and-”

“But for school? It’s summer vacation soon, what do they want?” Chanyeol asked. They kept chatting as they walked back into the studio and Baekhyun could plug in his guitar with Yongnam’s help.

“It’s a project outside of the university but people from my major are joining, it’s complicated…”

Chanyeol frowned, partially not fully convinced, partially a little disappointed. The recording had been fixed for days. But then, again, Baekhyun had never missed a meeting with the band before, so Chanyeol didn’t have the heart to blame him or really be angry.

“I see,” was all he said.

Only when Ginkgo Dawn were all ready in the same semi circle position as earlier, Yongguk sat on his chair again. “Thanks for joining us, Baekhyun.” He paused, looking at some notes he’d taken about what needed to be changed compared to their demo of ‘Of Dark Cold Days’.

“I’ve changed some parts of the drum, Kyungsoo. I felt like they were walking over Baekhyun’s voice a little. Especially there was one measure, when Baekhyun sings-” Yongguk mimed a part, his very low voice cracking here and there. They laughed, and both producers laughed with them. “Here, I want you to do a more punched effect with your drum, rather that what you were doing before. And this part, where you go like-” He reproduced sloppily the sound of Kyungsoo’s drum, then Yongnam pointed out something else and Yongguk laughed again.

“My brother’s an idiot, Kyungsoo, excuse him. He meant here.” Yongnam explained and played only a snipped of the demo. “This part instead, maybe beef it up a little, add a second layer of tom parts or something. What do you say?”

“We can try,” Kyungsoo assured.

“What about us?” Baekhyun asked, his fingers gripping anxiously at the fret of his guitar.

“You guys just do it regularly, and I’ll stop again if I need to say something, alright? Also, we’re going to have two tracks, one for the base and one for the singing. You will just sing in a separate recording, so don’t sing in this time,” Yongguk clarified.

They all nodded nervously. Chanyeol could feel the pressure of having to do everything at least decently for them to leave a good impression on the producers. The red light in the recording room flickered red at first, then it stopped on a fixed red colored dot.

Yongguk showed them thumbs up from the other side of the screen, to signal that they could start. Chanyeol nervously looked towards Baekhyun, only to notice that the boy was staring at the ground, fidgeting on the fret of his Gibson. He looked just as nervous as he’d been on their live show at Paradise Dust; Chanyeol’s heart clenched slightly, and he couldn’t stop looking at Baekhyun when he picked the strings of his Strat and gently let himself be dragged into the melody of ‘of Cold Dark Days’.

Sehun followed Chanyeol with his bass, supporting him and giving his notes more depth, as Chanyeol swayed left and right just slightly, basking in the initial calm of the tune. He noticed Baekhyun taking a deep breath, to his right, before sneaking amongst Chanyeol’s notes like a secret. The melody kept unraveling sweetly in a slow crescendo until Kyungsoo came in with his drums and everything seemed to explode.

Chanyeol threw a glance to Baekhyun and their eyes met for an instant. Baekhyun smiled faintly, Chanyeol smiled back.

Kyungsoo kept tying their tunes together in a pretty bow. With Yongguk’s suggestions it sounded like Kyungsoo was playing some parts alongside the two guitars and the bass and he fit right in. The drum seemed to drive the song yet it never overlapped with the guitars. On the contrary, it made the guitars sound more cohese.

Chanyeol was impressed. He wasn’t thinking about that red recording light in the corner anymore and he wasn’t really that nervous as his fingers glided to the right spot on the tabs and he tickled his strings almost with loving care.

He never stopped staring at Byun Baekhyun holding his tongue between his lips as he struggled to play his part perfectly. He was as rigid as he’d ever been, it was cute.

That nervousness Chanyeol had noticed, had diluted in concentration and Baekhyun didn’t look worried anymore. He seemed to be enjoying himself just like the others.

Chanyeol sighed in relief and leaned on his guitar again, for his almost solo part with Kyungsoo beating his drums madly.

Yongguk never stopped them until the end. He was just evaluating them from his spot on his chair. Yongnam whispered something to him, every now and then, but Chanyeol missed all of this, completely immersed in his own music.

He forgot they were recording at some point, and when they finally dove into the ending without Baekhyun getting any of the notes wrong CHanyeol almost screamed of excitement. He stopped himself right before it, and it was because he noticed Bang Yongguk’s expression grimace a little.

They concluded the song with all four of them harmonizing on a single, sustained note along with Kyungsoo grazing his cymbals softly and transitioned out of the melody naturally.

Yongguk nodded, but then he deadpanned with a very flat. “Again.”

Chanyeol felt his drumming heart fall a little at those words, and scolded himself for being so naive and thinking they were so good they could record in one take only.

Yongnam snorted, shaking his head a little. “Come out and drink some water before we try again, concentrate especially on this part here.” He played a certain part of the song as Chanyeol and the other walked gloomily out of the recording room.

“Make it a bit more decisive, less dragged,” Yongguk suggested. “Here, drink.” He tossed a water bottle towards Baekhyun and he caught it, as he slowly took his pager out of his pocket. It buzzed several times, Baekhyun frowned.

Chanyeol felt a bit invasive as he walked up to him — Baekhyun’s expression clearly crunched in what Chanyeol interpreted as worry, as something making him anxious again.

“Is there something wrong?” He asked cautiously.

Kyungsoo and Sehun were gathered over the recording desk as they were listening to the session from the top. Baekhyun’s brows knitted once more, his eyes fixed on the pager and the number displayed there. “I...am not sure,” he said.

“Is it from home?” Chanyeol insisted immediately, ready to send Baekhyun back if that was the case. There were more important things than the band, in certain circumstances. Baekhyun, however, shook his head slowly.

“No it’s...Jongdeok hyung calling. I don’t know why, though.” Baekhyun looked confused for a moment, then deleted the call from the pager screen and he put it back in his jeans pocket. “I’m sure it’s nothing important, let’s listen to the recording, c’mon.”

It didn’t help much. Chanyeol couldn’t brush it off, and he didn’t know if it was jealousy for Jongdeok appearing out of the blue and trying to get close to Baekhyun, or if it was seeing Baekhyun so on edge that made him worried. What he was sure about is that the situation was odd. However, Baekhyun hadn’t seen both him and Jongdae for years, according to what they’d said. _Since the funeral_. They had both known Baekhyun since before Chanyeol even knew Baekhyun existed.

He frowned with a sigh and hoped his guts were making him all messed up for nothing.

He concentrated on the recording, nodding and whispering subdued _yes_ whenever one of the twins made them notice something that was off in the track.

They went back to record almost immediately, Baekhyun resorting to leave his pager outside, just in case it interfered with the audio. It buzzed a few more times, but Baekhyun didn’t give it much importance and didn’t look in that direction during the whole session.

They finished recording the instrumental part properly only after two hours. Yongguk kept telling them to do it again and he seemed to never be satisfied to what they were doing. Chanyeol lowkey started glaring at him every now and then. Sehun tried to laugh at the 10th repeat, only to avert his own gaze from the producer immediately and never do that again — Bang Yongguk knew how to be scary, contrary to what Daehyun had said.

Before they could record the vocals, Daehyun came in with Tigger for some energy charge, and just like the time before, the poodle attached to Sehun and only later decided he would bother Chanyeol and get its well deserve cuddles from the guitarist.

Baekhyun recorded the vocals first. Chanyeol waited outside, sitting next to Yongguk and looking at him as he sang with his eyes closed.

The twins muted the microphone on their side at some point and Yongnam eyed Chanyeol with a raised eyebrow. “He’s doing surprisingly well compared to last time.”

Baekhyun was giving his all, putting all of his passion and throwing it at the microphone in front of him. He was holding his hands on the headphones and he frowned every now and then to hit the notes he wanted. Chanyeol could see how much he was trying to do well, and yet it was so easy to also tell how Baekhyun was ready to snap.

Chanyeol kept focusing on him, only distractedly nodding to Yongnam on his right. “It was his first live show, last time. He’d only been playing for a few of months,” he replied belatedly, realizing only after a while that he’d implicitly defended Baekhyun once more.

Baekhyun’s session was done in one take only, compared to the three sessions of Chanyeol’s vocal backups, but Yongguk didn’t seem to mind much even if Chanyeol was fidgety and felt the burden to be forced there behind a microphone without his guitar to cover him.

A recording session was usually something the band splurged on, to produce a good enough demo to show to producers and hope that there wa’s someone who would take interest in them. However 1994 Korea was flooding with new bands, and producers were constantly on the hunt for good singers and bands to throw in the musical world and hope they succeeded.

Ginkgo Dawn were lucky, maybe because of Baekhyun, maybe because they were really good, Chanyeol had no idea but when they wrapped the session up and Daehyun walked in again to sit onto one of the foldable chairs he was thankful and satisfied at the same time.

“We’ll call you here again in a couple of days and we’ll probably think about a live show, what do you think?” Yongnam prompted, patting an uncomfortable Baekhyun on the back. “You guys worked hard today. It was your first time but you did well enough. Now leave the job to us, mh?”

Baekhyun nodded with a smile that grew more at ease as Yongguk went to hug the other members on the band and finally Baekhyun too. It was a lot less scary once there wasn’t a thick screen between them and the producers.

They left with their guitars strapped on their backs when it was already dark outside and all they wanted was to eat something greasy and drink some beer.

“Chicken?” Sehun suggested and a groan of approval followed as they walked the streets of Itaewon one close to the other in a tight pack.

“I don’t feel my arms anymore,” Kyungsoo said all of a sudden with such a flat tone that everyone couldn’t help but laugh. Kyungsoo _never_ complained about playing the drums, but such a long time of recording the same song over and over must’ve taken a toll on him too.

“I thought he would’ve kept us there the whole night, hyung.” Sehun leaned a little on Kyungsoo jokingly and Kyungsoo caught him and laughed back.

Chanyeol just looked at them with a tired smile, turning slightly to drag his gaze towards Baekhyun. The boy was fumbling with his pager, his gibson bouncing on his back every time he took a larger step.

“Did you try to call him? Maybe something happened?” Chanyeol closed up on him and wrapped an warm around his shoulders.

Baekhyun shook his head. “I’ll try in the restaurant once we get there. I haven’t seen hyung for ages, I...didn’t think he would reach out, to be honest.”

“Mmh...Well,” Chanyeol started. “Put that thing away and let’s go enjoy the chicken for now, what do you say?”

Baekhyun’s lips curled up in a grin and he nodded. “Yeah. And c’mon, wasn’t I very good? Huh? I was awesome with the guitar today,” Baekhyun started. Though Chanyeol could notice the boy was putting up the good mood mask for the occasion, he didn’t want to stop him. Baekhyun was probably worrying for nothing anyway. “Why aren’t you guys praising me yet?”

Chanyeol shrugged, pulling him closer and brushing his lips on the crown of Baekhyun’s head. Baekhyun recoiled, as he always did, elbowing Chanyeol’s stomach and trying to impede his steps.

Sehun and Kyungsoo stopped on the road at some point to just stare at them with a very judging look to their faces, however Chanyeol couldn’t care less, even if they were acting like teenagers.

“Alright, alright Baekhyun-ah, I’m hungry, do we want this chicken or do we not?” Chanyeol huffed around a laugh, meanwhile trying to push Baekhyun away as the other boy kept trying to lift Chanyeol’s t-shirt up for the world to see in the middle of the road.

“Hyung, just tell Byun Baekhyun hyung that he was the best of them all so we can leave already,” Sehun requested, a few steps ahead.

“Actually,” Chanyeol said, as he started to walk again now that Baekhyun had finally stopped trying to strip him. “The best of them all was Kyungsoo today. Did you hear those drums, guys? He was like on fire, the song would’ve been shit without Do Kyungsoo.”

Baekhyun froze for a moment, then his mouth opened slightly to start with a “Ooh, Do Kyungsoo-ya that’s true though. He’s right, you were so so good today!”

Chanyeol could literally see the panic showing like the sun rising on Kyungsoo’s face. Kyungsoo started gesturing madly, laughing like an idiot as Chanyeol just _knew_ he was blushing, because that was exactly what Kyungsoo did when people complimented him.

“No shit, hyung. Chanyeol hyung is right! And Baekhyun hyung, you didn’t make any mistake with the guitar and recorded your part in one take only. It’s not bad for a newbie,” Sehun conceded with the most evil smile Chanyeol had ever seen on his face.

Kyungsoo’s laughter transitioned from shy to amused and Baekhyun froze in the middle of the street with such a shocked expression that he was funny to look at. Chanyeol couldn’t help but laugh holding his tummy and moving a few steps to wait for Baekhyun to walk up to him.

  
“Hyun-ah no shit, you were good for a newbie,” Chanyeol repeated. Baekhyun finally closed the distance between them before pinching Chanyeol’s butt as hard as he could. All Chanyeol could do was push him away with a laugh mixed with a pitiful whine.

“Ya Oh Sehun, fuck off by the way,” Baekhyun said lightly, showing Sehun his middle finger as he circled Chanyeol’s waist with his arm.

He looked up, and Chanyeol’s butt still ached from the pinch, but Baekhyun was smiling at him and it looked like nothing was bothering him at all. Chanyeol’s heart skipped a beat. He just felt the natural instinct to whisper something into his ear, sweet nonsense.

  
Baekhyun snorted, but Chanyeol knew the singer’s reactions enough to see that he was sort of flustered as he looked elsewhere. He lowered his hand to pat Chanyeol’s butt as they walked on the side of the street, a few steps behind Sehun and Kyungsoo.

“You really have no butt,” Baekhyun murmured between amused and disappointed. Then it was like he had a sudden revelation. “Yo, guys. Guys stop. What if instead of chicken we go for _bossam_ instead?”

“Not greasy enough,” Kyungsoo deadpanned a few steps ahead. “Why not chicken?”

“Because we always eat chicken, Baekhyunie’s right” Chanyeol replied immediately. “I’m voting for _bossam_ too. And we haven’t had it in a while.”

The decision was for Sehun to make, in the end. “Sehun-ah, you can’t side with Kyungsoo just because he’s your favorite,” Chanyeol warned. He’d wanted to tease Sehun for dating Kyungsoo for so long, but he hadn’t had the chance yet. Baekhyun snorted, hiding his face into Chanyeol’s shoulder and nuzzling there a little.

Sehun looked conflicted. “Hyung…” He turned his head towards Kyungsoo, then his eyes dragged towards Baekhyun. “I sort of want _bossam_ too…” He continued, his voice going a bit softer.

“And so I win,” Baekhyun said smugly in the end.

“Be nice,” Chanyeol vaguely warned, but in reality seeing Baekhyun so carefree was refreshing. _It’s gonna be fine_ , he thought.

Kyungsoo was half laughing, half playing fake offended at his boyfriend, Sehun was making up excuses. Chanyeol and Baekhyun walked a tad faster until they were walking next to the other two.

The streets of the market were still mostly empty, the majority of the shops having closed hours earlier. The market had its own atmosphere to it, as Ginkgo Dawn entered small streets dimly lit with orange lights. Chanyeol liked it, and he liked it even more with Baekhyun playing with his fingers as they reached the main road.

“Can’t believe I gave up on chicken because all of you wanted _bossam_ ,” Kyungsoo complained, without real bite in his voice. “I just wanted chicken.”

“Sehun-ah, did you suggest that because Kyungsoo wanted to have chicken?” Baekhyun teased. Sehun hummed, suddenly dragging his gaze elsewhere.

“No...of course it wasn’t because of that…” It was obviously because of that. Even Kyungsoo laughed at him, before starting looking around for a _bossam_ place for them to go to.

Baekhyun was smiling at Chanyeol when they stopped for the traffic light, talking about how hungry he was. He hadn’t looked at his pager anymore— Chanyeol had almost forgotten about it.

“Byun Baekhyun-ah!” Someone called, followed by two short honks.

Baekhyun froze, his eyes darting to the main road and stopping on a black sonata that Chanyeol recognized immediately. The others probably did too. They’d seen it way too many times parked outside of Paradise Dust, in the middle of Hongdae.

“Jongdeok Hyung?” It was Sehun asking this time, as they all got closer to the car.

Chanyeol stood a bit behind. He wasn’t sure he wanted to see Jongdeok at all, at this point. All he knew was that Baekhyun had started acting weird after meeting him, and no matter how much Chanyeol had admired the guy through the years he couldn’t help but feel a bit jealous. _Jealousy_ because Jongdeok was suddenly showing interest in Baekhyun, and even if they’d been friends since childhood and Chanyeol was forcing himself to accept that, seeing that black sonata pull over, calling Baekhyun, was making him annoyed.

He had showed up so suddenly and in such odd circumstances that Chanyeol couldn’t help but have very mixed -mostly negative- feelings about it.

Especially considering how tense Baekhyun looked even now as he put his head in the car through the car window along with Sehun.

“Hyung what are you doing here?” Baekhyun asked. He sounded natural, but Chanyeol definitely caught a hint of something he couldn’t name there, in his voice.

“I heard from Jongdae you guys were recording with the Bang twins and came to pick you up, Baekhyun-ah. I’m having dinner with Jongdae and some guys from my former highschool wanna join? Hyung will pay for you, c’mon.”

It was odd. Odd that the invitation was for Baekhyun only. Sehun moved a couple of steps backwards, as Jongdeok must’ve probably realized how weird it had sounded, because he started gesturing frantically. “It’s people Baekhyun knows already, that’s why I wasn’t extending the invite to you all, guys,” he explained.

It was a lame excuse, but Chanyeol couldn’t bring himself to say anything.

“It’s fine, Hyung,” Sehun replied as nicely as he could, stopping only when he was next to Kyungsoo. “We were going to have _bossam_ anyway.”

Baekhyun sighed. Chanyeol could only see his back and he stared at it, hoping Baekhyun would say no.

“Hyung, actually…” Baekhyun started. “As Sehun said we sort of had plans…” He was nervous rather than sorry, as if he wasn’t sure how to get himself out of the situation.

“C’mon, Hyun-ah. It’s just for today, I don’t meet with the guys that often. And it’s a good opportunity for them to see you too. You guys can do without him, can’t you?” Jongdeok asked, directed towards Chanyeol, Sehun and Kyungsoo.

None of them replied, because they did mind. It was their celebration dinner, they all wanted Baekhyun there. But they also knew how difficult it is to say no to someone older, so they just kept quiet.

“Alright hyung,” Baekhyun said around the edges of a sigh. “I’ll put the guitar in the back.”

Chanyeol felt his stomach twist with such an unpleasant feeling that his first instinct was to glare at Jongdeok. It made no sense and he didn’t want Baekhyun do leave with him. He felt stupid and he hadn’t know before how jealous he could be. It baffled him and had the same effect of a punch in the face, when Baekhyun turned around to shoot him an apologetic smile.

They just waved at the car as Baekhyun left and the black sonata disappeared in the traffic. Chanyeol suddenly felt heavier and the group felt too quiet. Since when had they been so lively, when it was just them as a group? Chanyeol hadn’t had so much fun even when Jiho was there.

“We’re really awkward now without him, aren’t we?” Kyungsoo noted, sticking his hands in his pockets to look for a cigarette. He found it, and lit it distractedly as they walked in a line on the sidewalk.

Sehun hummed back in agreement. “He couldn’t exactly say no, though, could he?”

“I guess...Park Chanyeol you’re being quiet.” It was Kyungsoo again. He stopped to study Chanyeol’s expression. “What’s with that expression? It’s not like he went to the military. You guys live together, don’t be sad.”

Chanyeol bit his lower lip, eyeing the street distractedly as they stopped to catch a bus. “I guess maybe it’s just me being stupid, or jealous,” he admitted. “I didn’t want him to leave.”

“Neither did we, but he didn’t have much choice, Hyung,” Sehun insisted. “We’re abandoning the _bossam_ idea then?”

“Let’s just eat it closer to school,” Kyungsoo replied softly. They grouped next to the bus stop post. Chanyeol’s eyes fixed on the smoke coming out of Kyungsoo’s cigarette. He hesitated. He wanted to tell them about his worries, and yet at the same time the possibility of that sensation being Chanyeol overreacting was too big for him to freely talk about it.

He frowned, his eyes stopping on a couple not too far.

“There’s something off about Baekhyun,” Chanyeol blurted out without realizing. He needed to get it out of his system, so he did. He was always insecure, when it came to Baekhyun. He didn’t know if it was because he liked him so much, or because Baekhyun was the first person he’d fallen so hard for.

“What do you mean?” Kyungsoo turned around to look at him attentively, lowering his cigarette.

“It’s not the first time Jongdeok shows up and says he wants to talk to him. Apparently they’ve known each other for a long time, I’m not sure,” Chanyeol explained quickly. “But since that first time Baekhyun has always been tense and nervous and…”

He stared at both Sehun and Kyungsoo with a helpless expression, then he carded his hand through his hair in frustration. “I don’t know why he would be anxious like that after meeting Jongdeok, I mean he’s Jongdeok. Paradise Dust’s Jongdeok. But...Baekhyun’s past is a mess, so I…you know.”

Chanyeol interrupted the sentence to breathe out, before Sehun walked next to him and patted him on the back. Then he rested his head on Chanyeol’s shoulder. “I think you’re just being worried for nothing. Maybe he’s tense for other reasons,” he suggested.

“I don’t see why Jongdeok should constitute a problem. Are you sure it’s not just you being a possessive little shit?” Kyungsoo commented flatly. “Baekhyun doesn’t spend that much time with me, though, so you should know best.”

“He looks tense to me,” Chanyeol repeated in defeat. “But maybe you guys are right. I’ve been trying to think about that too, but...I guess I needed someone else to confirm it.”

Sehun hummed, still close to Chanyeol. “Hyung, you said Jongdeok has known Baekhyun since he was very young, right? It makes sense that they’re close. Don’t think about it that much.”

They were both calm about it, they probably hadn’t noticed anything weird about it all apart from Baekhyun being late.

“Why don’t you ask his childhood friend?” Kyungsoo suggested out of the blue.

Chanyeol hadn’t thought about that. Jongdae was Jongdeok’s brother, after all. And Jongdeok himself has confirmed that Jongdae had told him about the location of the recording. _Maybe he knew something?_

“Isn’t that sort of stalkerish?” He wondered, to which Kyungsoo just shrugged.

“If you’re actually concerned about him and you think there is a problem, then it’s not you being a possessive little shit. If it’s you being jealous, then don’t be an asshole and give him space, it’s not hard, ParkChan.”

_It’s not hard._

 

Baekhyun came home very late and very drunk that night and he stumbled on a pile of Chanyeol’s clothes at the entrance of his room before sneaking in Chanyeol’s bed reeking of alcohol.

“Jongdae wasn’t even there...I wanted to see Jongdae but there were only people I didn’t even remember who they were…” he mumbled. He called Chanyeol’s name a few times, clinging to him and trying to get rid of his own clothes very clumsily.

Chanyeol exhaled, wondering why Jongdeok would say Jongdae was there, if he wasn’t, as he helped Baekhyun get into more comfortable clothes for sleeping. He was too tired himself and Baekhyun’s lips were sweet, even if they smelled and tasted like soju as he kissed Chanyeol’s thoughts away.

He was still nervous the day after, other than hungover, hanging his head low on the breakfast the landlady had prepared for them.

Chanyeol didn’t ask about the night before, he didn’t need to. He had enough details to more or less imagine what had happened: Baekhyun being the youngest had felt obliged to drink even if he didn’t really want to, he’d spent the night with strangers and Jongdeok had brought him home in the end.

What he was missing, though, was why Jongdae hadn’t been there.

 

.  


 

It took Chanyeol two days of Baekhyun constantly receiving calls or leaving suddenly to meet Jongdeok to decide that he was both worried about the singer and jealous and that it wasn’t too invasive to ask Jongdae what he thought about it, though he wasn’t close to Jongdae at all and the only thing he knew about him, was that he liked the _budae jjigae_ of the restaurant where they’d seen him for the first time.

That’s why he went there at lunch time two days after and hoped for Jongdae to be there: he was.

The restaurant was quite packed but Jongdae was eating alone in a corner, close to the water container. He looked incredibly similar to Jongdeok, now that Chanyeol could take a better look. They had the same eyebrows and the same kittenish smile, but Jongdae was thinner and his eyes were softer.

He noticed Chanyeol entering almost immediately and waved at him as if he’d seen a long time friend. “Sit here!” He added, tapping the table. He was almost done, but he was quick to order some more as soon as the lady walked past their table.

  
Chanyeol sat down cross legged, after leaving his shoes on the rack at the entrance.

“It’s the first time I see you here,” Jongdae chimed. He was in a good mood, as he dropped some ramen and some kimchi in a separate plate for Chanyeol to eat.

“Thanks,” Chanyeol muttered, taking the plate from Jongdae and some chopsticks from the box on the side of the table. “It’s the first time I come here. It’s more crowded than expected,” he commented while distractedly looking at the other people there.

“It’s not bad, and it’s cheap. You should come here with Baekhyun once, so we can eat together and I can tell you all about that idiot.” Jongdae slurped some ramen loudly and his lips curled up when Chanyeol met his gaze.

“Yeah, we should,” the guitarist murmured. “Have...you guys been friends for that long?” Chanyeol knew they had, but he wanted Jongdae’s side of the story as well. Maybe it would help him know more about Baekhyun as he was in the past, if he was different from now.

“Yeah, our mom put us naked in the inflatable swimming pool in the backyard and all that jazz...There should be some pictures from then, at home. Baekhyun was cuter than now, I was identical.”

Chanyeol slowly started to understand why Baekhyun was Jongdae’s friend. He was easy to talk with, and even if it was the first time he was chatting with Chanyeol, he was the type to put him at ease.

“I really want to see those pictures now,” Chanyeol joked as their order arrived and the lady there replaced the pan at the center of the table. “The food looks really good,” he added.

“Yeah. And well, you can see the pictures I guess. Not sure if you’d want to see naked 3 years old ByunBaek, but I don’t know what relationship you guys have right now…” He let the sentence drag and Chanyeol immediately realized Jongdae knew about them.

He didn’t comment about it. He just laughed, as he served himself with some soup, ramen and mushrooms and placed them on a rice bowl.

“He’s always been the same,” Jongdae murmured. “He always wants to do things on his own, he’s stubborn and sometimes you want to punch him in the face, don’t you?”

Chanyeol snorted and nodded energetically. “More often than not. But he’s caring.” There was a pause, before Chanyeol spoke again. “I thought the two of you met a couple of days ago,” Chanyeol hinted, glancing up at Jongdae only to find him sporting a suddenly confused face.

“A couple of days ago?” The guy repeated, as if what Chanyeol had said didn’t make any sense.

Chanyeol was almost scared of asking again. “Yeah, your brother came to pick Baekhyun up after the recording with Bang PD and said you would meet with some guys from high school or something.”

Jongdae just raised his eyebrows, then frowned. “Well, I did tell him about the recording, but I had never told him I would go drink with him and his friends. Since I didn’t know them that well...and neither does Baekhyun, to be honest. Did he go?”

Chanyeol nodded, his brows knitted together. “He did. He came back drunk and was whining that you weren’t there and he wanted to see you.”

Jongdae stayed quiet, looking at the table lost in his thoughts for a moment. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I was excited about you guys recording, so I told hyung. I didn’t even know they’d met, he didn’t say.”

“Aren’t they close?” Chanyeol asked again for confirmation, munching on some rice.

Jongdae breathed in, raising his brows again. He played with his chopsticks for a few seconds. “I mean he’s _my_ best friend, not my brother’s.”

Chanyeol felt it again, that weird twist to his stomach. “So they’re not?”

“Hyung was Baekhyunie’s ex boyfriend’s best friend,” Jongdae explained. Chanyeol blinked. “The two of them were really close. That’s how Hyung got to meet Baekhyun. The two of them, as in my brother and Junki hyung sort of kept us out of the adult world until Baekhyun and Junki Hyung started dating. That’s when Baekhyun started going out with older people and maybe started talking to my brother more, but...I wouldn’t say that my brother and him are close.”

Chanyeol kept quiet, staring at his rice bowl. “I see.”

“I wonder why he didn’t tell me...it doesn’t make any sense.”

Chanyeol explained it again, about Baekhyun being tense and all. It felt like spilling his secrets around, but Jongdae was Baekhyun’s best friend according to what he was saying, and maybe he would be willing to help.

“Why would he be, though? I don’t think my brother means anything bad with it, and he’s certainly not the type to be interested in him” Jongdae brushed it off, taking some more soup from the pan in the middle. “He probably wants to get close to Hyunie again, since both him and I haven’t seen him for more than a year.”

Chanyeol didn’t know what to say. “I guess you’re right,” he mumbled. “He’s still acting weird, however and he won’t say why.”

Jongdae’s lips stretched in a line. “I’m not sure, but Baekhyun’s the type to solve the problems on his own before telling people around him. Give him some time, certainly something will come up.”

Chanyeol nodded. They kept eating and the conversation quickly shifted from Baekhyun to their life and what they did. Jongdae was nice, and he seemed to know Baekhyun very well.

But why couldn’t Chanyeol get rid of the feeling that something was happening and nobody cared enough to look?


	14. Track 13

**Track 13**

 

Chanyeol decided to drop by Paradise Dust on a whim, before going back home that day. The sun hadn’t set yet, and Chanyeol was pretty sure Paradise Dust would be empty, save for Jongdeok and probably Shiah and the other girl working there part time cleaning the place before opening.

It wasn’t the first time Chanyeol walked in the direction of Hongdae so early, but for some reason the air felt different, charged of electricity and suspended, like right before a storm. The area was bustling with life as usual, with buskers guarding their spots in the middle of the main road and people stopping to look at some clothes, or circling around the _dalgoma_ stand to buy one of the snacks.

Nothing looked strikingly different as Chanyeol took a left into a side street, then a right walking in the direction of the pub. The sign just above the door was still off, just as Chanyeol had imagined, and the black door was still closed— it was definitely too early for anyone to get in to drink cocktails. Paradise Dust was a place for night people or people who belonged to the world of music; often the two ended up overlapping.

That’s what Chanyeol liked about it. How everyone seemed to put on a mask when they entered, ready to just let go and succumb to the rhythm of the music, to the spell of the alcohol, sometimes even more than that, if someone managed to sneak in something more intriguing.

The magic always ended as the bands started to leave, just before dawn, and Paradise Dust could close its doors with the rising of the sun.

There was nothing charming and magical about the backstreet Chanyeol walked in. Just cigarette butts and a pile of trash— it seemed as if they never collected it and it just kept piling up and up, endlessly. It was the same place where Jiho had announced he’d leave the band, and where Chanyeol had talked to Baekhyun before their live show.

He didn’t think about it twice, as he closed the distance with the metallic door on the left, about halfway to the end of the street, and pulled it. It opened, as Chanyeol had expected.

For the usual client, Paradise Dust was the exact opposite of a quiet place, however Chanyeol knew better. The pub was often dead silent in the afternoon. Jongdeok always said he preferred to have his headache start the latest possible, since he would be probably sleeping with it.

Jongdeok was the person who’d introduced Chanyeol to Paradise Dust, after meeting him through some mutual friends of Jiho. He wasn’t the owner of the place, according to what he said, but the real owner was an old man who made a living renting apartments in the lower part of the river, in Seoul and he’d started the activity without really knowing what to do with it. An older guy called Chanhoon had worked there for almost ten years, and then Jongdeok had taken the job.

Chanyeol liked him, and had gotten used to walking into the pub to find Jongdeok doing crosswords at the counter. Only, that day it was Shiah on the counter. She was studying, judging by the amount of books opened on the sticky surface of the bar.

“Shouldn’t you be studying at home, miss?” Chanyeol greeted with a wave of his hand and a smile. Shiah looked up and smiled back, putting down her pen and propping her elbows on the bar.

“Look who’s back! I thought you’d forgotten about us, now that you’re famous and all, oppa,” she said, half teasing and half scolding. She twirled her pen distractedly on her index, then caught it again.

Chanyeol walked closer and rested his forearm on the counter, looking around. Nobody to be seen, neither the other part timer nor Jongdeok. “Ei...Famous, now. Who told you I’m famous now?”

Shiah made a short, hissing sound with her tongue. “Jongdae oppa did, you didn’t even care to update me, Oppa. I’m mad at you, seriously.”

Chanyeol snorted, looking away. “Don’t be mad, c’mon. And I’m not famous anyway, we just happened to be noticed by someone but nothing’s confirmed yet.” He met Shiah’s gaze again, frowning slightly. “Do you know Jongdae too?” He asked, though the connection was pretty clear at this point.

“He’s Jongdeok’s brother, of course I know him. I was introduced to him a while ago, since he was in the military before. Jongdeok oppa said so,” Shiah replied with a shrug. Her eyes went to the book opened on the table, then back to Chanyeol. “Are you here to compose another song, Oppa?”

Chanyeol shook his head. “No, I don’t think I’ll compose anything else for a while, to be honest. That was a special occasion,” he said, though he realized what he wanted to say was that the _song_ was special.

Shiah giggled, slapping Chanyeol’s upper arm without much force. “Oppa. Make it so there is a special occasion again, it’s not that hard if you want to.”

Chanyeol just smiled and stayed quiet, tapping on the bar. “I didn’t really _compose_ that song, so I don’t know. We’ll see. And again, we’re not famous yet or anything so don’t go spread that around, mh?”

Shiah flicked her shoulders looking down. “Whatever, Oppa. You haven’t been here in a while, though. So I was just teasing. And since I heard the Bang Twins had noticed you…” She dropped the sentence and pouted. “Are you gonna play here again?”

Chanyeol hesitated. “Not sure when, but I suppose we will at some point,” he reassured. “We won’t become celebrities that fast, if we even manage. And by the way, the Bang Twins? Do you even know producers now?”

  
He ruffled her hair and she slapped his hand away jokingly. “I know more than you do, Oppa.” She bit her tongue between her teeth playfully. “Why are you here? You said you didn’t come to compose like last time.”

Chanyeol breathed out, looking around one more time. He didn’t know how to talk about his worries, and if he even wanted to. What he wanted, and the reason why he’d come to Paradise Dust so instinctively, was to see Jongdeok. Jongdae hadn’t given him any specific answer, save from assuring Chanyeol that Baekhyun and Jongdeok weren’t close. And that hadn’t helped the guitarist calm down, it made him even more skeptical.

“I wanted to see Jongdeok hyung,” he explained shortly. Shiah was clever and bright enough to notice that something wasn’t being said, but she kept it for herself. “Has he arrived yet?”

“He’s in the back, doing inventory. He told me to watch the door, but nobody ever walks in. Apart from you, oppa,” she chimed. “He’ll be happy to see you, since you haven’t been here in so long!”

_Happy_. Chanyeol rolled the word on his tongue as he walked away from the counter. “Thanks Shiah!” He said just before opening the door to the basement.

He’d been there a couple of times only, but luckily the lightbulb on the stairs leading down was on. “Hyung?” he called, walking down a few steps, his hand on the wall for balance.

The basement was bigger than he’d remembered it, and Jongdeok was sitting in the middle of a large number of opened carton boxes. Most of them contained the food and snacks people in the privé area of the club ate, the rest was alcohol.

Jongdeok looked up when Chanyeol appeared on top of the stairs and gestured for him to come closer. “I didn’t expect to see you here, Yeol. Come here, c’mon. Sit.”

Chanyeol did as Jongdeok had said, smiling faintly at him. “Hi Hyung,” he greeted simply as he sat in front of him, on a big carton box that didn’t seem like it would break down under his weight. “How have you been?” He asked, generically. He kept looking at the boxes, because looking at Jongdeok made him mad for no reason.

Chanyeol liked Jongdeok, it made no sense at all. “Mad party a couple of days ago, they told me.” Nobody had told Chanyeol. Baekhyun being completely drunk in his bed had been enough to guess.

Jongdeok laughed breathily, putting to the side the piece of paper he was checking. “We got a little out of control, yeah. It’s usually not like that when we meet the guys, but at least I was sober enough for Baekhyunie to come home safely. He did, didn’t he?”

Chanyeol didn’t know what to make of the answer, so he just laughed back and nodded. “He did. Very drunk, but he did. I haven’t known him for so long but he’d told me he doesn’t handle alcohol well,” he said sarcastically. “I didn’t expect him to go wild with it.”

_I didn’t expect you or your friends to force him to drink_ , was what Chanyeol was really trying to say, behind all the smiles and politeness of his tone.

Jongdeok didn’t give any sign of having caught the bitterness within Chanyeol’s voice, he just stretched with a groan. “He said he was fine with it. I didn’t know, since he was still a minor when I knew him before, you know? But two drinks and bam! he was sleeping on the table like a baby, can you believe that?”

Chanyeol could, and before he realized he was clenching his fist because it was definitely something he didn’t want to think about. Kyungsoo and the others were right, maybe it _was_ just Chanyeol being a possessive little shit. Maybe it was the jealousy, making Chanyeol perceive things differently.

He laughed. “Yeah, I can. I saw him sort of tipsy once, and stuff happened, so..” He let the sentence hang there, awkwardly staring at his hands.

There was silence for a few seconds in which Jongdeok went back to his inventory, fumbling into boxes and ticking the list on the paper that was now splayed on his thigh. “Did you have something to ask me, anyway? You haven’t been here in a while. Since the liveshow, you stranger.”

Chanyeol embarrassingly scratched the back of his head. “Shiah said the same thing, Hyung. And I haven’t been away for that long.”

“You all say that, then the second a producer snatches you, you’re gone for bigger venues, you traitors,” Jongdeok sounded almost melodramatic as well as ironic as he talked. “I’m really glad the twins noticed you guys, though. It’s a great opportunity, you should make the best out of it.”

The guitarist chortled, hunching forward with a smile. “Thank you hyung,” he murmured. “The guys are very happy about it too. It was totally unexpected, but I hope it turns out well.”

Jongdeok hummed. “Did you come to compose another song?”

Chanyeol didn’t want to reply immediately, so he hummed indecisively as he formulated a sensible question inside his head. “No, hyung.” He paused, meeting Jongdeok’s eyes. The man was looking at him askance, froze for a moment. “I was wondering...You’ve been meeting Baekhyunie often, lately.”

Jongdeok nodded with a hum, as if there was nothing wrong with it. “Yes, I have. Has he told you about it?”

Chanyeol chuckled nervously, fidgeting with the edge of his sweater. “Well, it would be difficult not to notice, Hyung.” He swallowed. _He was just being jealous_ , yet he didn’t want to be too obvious with it. “Baekhyun didn’t really talk about it, but he’s a been a bit weird lately so I thought I would ask you.”

“Ah,” Jongdeok started, scratching the side of his cheek. “Well, there isn’t much to say about that. I haven’t seen the kid in almost two years, since when my best friend passed away. I’m trying to make up for that. Nobody has been next to him, in all that time, I felt like it was my responsibility, somehow?”

Chanyeol looked at him, momentarily feeling very stupid. It made sense, and even though as Jongdae had said, Baekhyun and Jongdeok weren’t really close in the past, maybe taking care of Baekhyun was his way of coping with his best friend’s death.

It made sense.

“But…” Chanyeol blurted out before he could even notice. He smiled, a little tired and a little sad at the same time. This Baekhyun story was draining him; he just wanted things to go well. “I don’t know, Hyung. He’s been strange, I’m just worried for him. Are you not?”

Jongdeok frowned, as if he was thinking about something. “Mmh, he hasn’t talked to you about it?”

Chanyeol shook his head looking down. “No, he hasn’t.”

There was one more moment of silence, and Chanyeol’s gaze slowly went back to Jongdeok, confusedly.

“Well,” Jongdeok started, meeting Chanyeol’s eyes briefly before going back to dig into boxes and tick stuff on his list. “There’s some things people want to keep for themselves and would prefer others not to know. I guess that’s a good reason to, you know. Step aside?” Pause. “Look elsewhere?”

_What?_

Chanyeol blinked a couple of times, then frowned askance shaking his head as if trying to make sense of what Jongdeok had just said. He couldn’t get it. “What are you trying to say hyung?”

Jongdeok shrugged, not even looking at Chanyeol. “Nothing special, Yeol. Maybe he just doesn’t want to tell you and he won’t. Maybe he has his own reasons for it and you should respect that, you know?”

No, Chanyeol didn’t know. He was worried, because Baekhyun was so happy on that stage at Paradise Dust, weeks before. He’d been terrified at first, true, but the moment that was over, he was a true musician on a true stage. He was shining bright. There was no possible reason for him to be acting that weird and being all secretive about it. The only change in that routine had been Jongdeok, but that didn’t make any sense either. _Unless_ -

“Hyung, do you know something you’re not telling me?” Chanyeol asked tentatively.

There had to be something. It was there, and Jongdeok was clearly avoiding the question. The man snorted, though. It was an amused, short laugh.

“Baekhyunie and I aren’t as close as you think. And if he hasn’t told you…” He let the sentence hang there, like a loose thread. Chanyeol was so frustrated and miffed at this point that he didn’t know whether he wanted to punch Jongdeok or kick him in the face.

“Hyung,” he said sternly.

“I don’t know, Yeol. I’m just assuming stuff, alright? He doesn’t talk to me,” Jongdeok concluded, then he froze. He took a deep breath, knitting his eyebrows together. “You know, I think… I think you should leave. There’s a lot of stuff to do here, the inventory and such...And I can’t tell you anything more of what I have already, so-”

Chanyeol was taken aback. He’d been at Paradise Dust in the busiest moments writing his songs or even just hanging around with Jongdeok to chat, but Jongdeok had never told him to leave. Not even when he was too busy to even look at Chanyeol.

“Ah-” was all Chanyeol managed, with an awkward smile. “Of course hyung,” he staggered. “I understand. And sorry for interrupting you.”  
  
The apology was empty— Chanyeol wasn’t sorry at all. Jongdeok was obviously not saying it all, but Chanyeol doubted he would get any more information out of it. He stood up, rubbed his hands on the side of his jeans. “I’ll go then, hyung.”

Jongdeok hummed, flapping his hand with his gaze cast low. Chanyeol couldn’t believe this was the same person he’d chatted with for hours, months earlier.

He started climbing up the stairs with a sigh. They creaked under his weight. He felt betrayed, in a sense, because he’d trusted Jongdeok, he really did. Jongdeok had always cheered for him, helped The Housewives when it was necessary.

Well, that was in the past, considering how things looked now.

He was ready to rush through the rest of the stairwell when he heard it.

“You wouldn’t understand anyway.”

He froze, his head whiplashing to the side to look at Jongdeok. “What did you say, hyung?”

Jongdeok looked up interrogatively— he smiled a faint smile. “Nothing. See you next time, Yeol. Tell Shiah to open the front door at the usual time, I’ll be taking a bit longer here.”

The guitarist stared at him, the words stuck into his throat. He didn’t say goodbye one more time as she rushed upstairs, and he didn’t tell Shiah anything. He needed air. He needed to get out of there and think.

There was something odd going on, he was sure of it, and he felt helpless.

Baekhyun wasn’t telling him, Jongdeok was keeping it a secret and everyone else was too busy to care.

  


.

 

Yongguk’s studio was darker than usual. Maybe it was because of the blinds, together with the sky looking so dark with clouds that day — it often ended up raining when they went to see the producer, and Chanyeol wasn’t sure if he should take it as a sign or something.

Ginkgo Dawn were sitting in the recording studio on the usual foldable chairs, with Tigger obediently sitting on Yongguk’s lap as the producer stroked the dog’s back. Yongnam was busy today, or so Daehyun had greeted them with, at the entrance.

“And so this is about all we did about the cassette. Nothing too extreme, just polished it a little. Keep in mind it’s just one song, and that we should probably record more, but…” Yongguk shrugged, reaching for a packet of cigarettes on his table. “People usually don’t spend time listening to an emerging group from the beginning, which is why I didn’t insist on making you record more than one demo from the beginning.”

They all nodded slowly. Yongguk looked at them, thoughtful, for a brief moment, and when he seemed not to see any contrariated face he just lit his cigarette and took a drag of the smoke. Chanyeol suddenly felt like smoking too.

He fumbled with the whole in the fabric of his jeans, the one more or less on his knee. “We have never even had the necessary equipment to record ourselves properly, so as The Housewives we never tried. This is all completely new to us,” Chanyeol explained.

He threw a glance at Baekhyun next to him, and found him spacing out. He sighed.

Neither Yongguk nor the others seemed to notice. Quite the opposite.

“Do you guys want some ramen? It’s dinner time anyway,” he asked — his voice was low, and Yongguk was extremely intimidating, but Chanyeol was surprised from how unexpectedly out of character he was sometimes.

Sehun and Kyungsoo nodded. Baekhyun shook his head slowly, quietly looking out the window.

_Too quiet_ , Chanyeol thought instinctively.

Chanyeol took some ramen cups from the stack in the cupboard under his recording table, which was extremely unusual for a professional producer, but it seemed to fit Yongguk’s persona a lot. “Here,” he said to no one in particular.

It was Sehun who took the cups and bolted out of the room to get some hot water to eat.  

“It’s better if we talk about this with some food. Not gourmet but…” He laughed.

Chanyeol chortled with him, Baekhyun just smiled weakly. His blonde hair was starting to grow back and a bit of black roots could be seen on top of his head. The boy looked tired, as if he hadn’t slept for days and he probably hadn’t. Chanyeol had felt him roll in his sleep multiple times, the night Baekhyun had sneaked into his bed.

After that, he’d just stuck to his own room.

“Is it good news?” Chanyeol asked the producer around a sigh, trying to avert his own eyes and mind from Baekhyun— he only half succeeded.

Yongguk nodded, then took his ramen from Sehun who’d just come back balancing three ramen cups between his arms and his chest. “I have a proposal for you guys and something to do, in case you accept the proposal.”

“What is it?” Kyungsoo asked, mixing his ramen with chopsticks and pulling up some of the noodles before lowering them again in the soup.

Chanyeol reached out to poke Baekhyun’s leg distractedly, then when Baekhyun poked back, he caught his pinkie finger between index and thumb and pulled at it slightly. Baekhyun turned around to smile at him, and for a moment he looked a little more _there_.

Yongguk slurped on his noodles, then started. “So, there’s a gig. A concert of a friend of mine, with his band. They’re playing at Rolling Stone in Sinchon, which is-”

“Wow,” Chanyeol couldn’t contain himself, glancing quickly at an equally surprised Kyungsoo.  
  
“-which is a big, important venue. Yeah. Crying Nut will be playing. The group who originally had planned to open the night has another gig on the same day, so they had to give this stage up. Which is why my friend asked if I knew someone who would be willing to play, and...Would Ginkgo Dawn be available?” Yongguk smiled a toothy smile— he suddenly looked like a shark.

Chanyeol didn’t know what to reply. He had smiled back instinctively and now he couldn’t contain his excitement.

“Are you kidding?” Kyungsoo asked, his chopsticks with the ramend stopped midway to his mouth. “That’s insane, what...When is the gig. How much time do we have?” The drummer looked at his bandmates worryingly, then he was back on Yongguk.

“Next week, so...you have a little more than week or so to prepare. I’d suggest you open with ‘of Cold Dark Days’ and add two covers of your choice after that.” Yongguk said, reaching with his finger to scratch his forehead. “I realize it’s a challenge and a bit last minute, but I hope you realize how much of a good opportunity that could be.”

Baekhyun hummed, frowning. “That’s not enough time to make a decent performance.”

“What?” Yongguk asked, as everyone’s gaze went to Baekhyun silently.

“Just…” Baekhyun staggered, knitting his brows together. “I’m not sure we can manage to prepare a stage in a week…”

Chanyeol stared at Baekhyun as if he had some alien in front of him. The Baekhyun he knew would’ve never hesitated in front of such an opportunity. _I want to be on that stage again,_ he’d said. Where had it all gone? Where was that motivation?  
  
Chanyeol didn’t know what to say and neither did the others. Yongguk raised an eyebrow, then shrugged. “Well, if you think that you can’t, then there’s nothing to be done.”

“No, we’re doing it.” Sehun blurted out. “Right hyung?” His eyes darted to Chanyeol, almost pleading. “Right?”

Chanyeol nodded and Kyungsoo did the same. “There’s no way we pass on this, so yes. We’ll do our best. And maybe it won’t be the best stage we’ve ever done,” Chanyeol glanced quickly at Baekhyun, but the singer had his gaze cast low to the ground. “But we’ll try.”

He sighed, then hunched forward with his elbows on his knees. “What do we need to do, aside from rehearsals?”

Yongguk looked at all of them as group for a long, long moment. He was thinking about something, Chanyeol could tell from his expression, but for some reason he decided to puff out some air and go back to what Chanyeol had asked originally.

“My brother and I made some copies of the cassette with that single track we recorded. I’d recommend you make as many copies as you think it’s necessary and try to give them out in music shops and other venues. What do you say?”

They nodded.

“We made ten, but I’d recommend you make more. A batch of it will be sold at the venue where you’ll perform, and the rest you can give around. It’s a good way to make you gain some popularity in the area and make a few coins.”

“We’d have to pay for the rest of the cassettes, is this what you’re saying?” It was Sehun talking now, while munching on his noodles.

“Yes. That, and the flyers for the gig. This.” Yongguk digged under some folders on his recording table and finally fished out a colorful pamphlet with the picture of the main band playing.

“This was still the copy that was made when the other group was going to perform. I had my friend give me the floppy disk with the flyer file and I modified it on my computer so that it says Ginkgo Dawn. I didn’t have a picture of you guys, but if you have a logo, you could add it on the file and then print as many flyers as you can.”

Baekhyun raised an eyebrow taking the flyer from Yongguk’s hand. “Will people even look at our band’s name here? It’s...small.”

Yongguk snorted, shaking his head and putting his ramen container aside. “They probably won’t. But let’s be honest, advertising the gig means more people will come and more people will get to see you perform. That’s the only way you’ll gain some popularity, if you trust what I say.”

He was right. People came to see them at Paradise Dust, but most of the times it was never a single band performing, unless the band was famous enough for their fans to fill in the venue. They were quite popular in the University when they performed as The Housewives, but even then, they could’ve never managed to crowd a whole venue.

What Yongguk had suggested was much more likely to give them some new fans and bring back some of their old ones. “

“We’ll try to add the logo,” Sehun shared. “Maybe if it’s pretty enough people will at least remember that.”

 

“So you’re in?” Yongguk asked, for confirmation.

“Absolutely”, Chanyeol nodded and the others mirrored him. Baekhyun, on the side, sighed without saying much.

 

They left the studio after finishing the ramen. It was raining as expected, the sky was dark and grey, it looked like made of vaporous clouds of iron. The air was sticky with humidity and as soon as they stepped outside of the building, Chanyeol felt his own clothes go damp. He groaned.

“It’s not even rain season and I hate this weather already…” He muttered, still hesitant to come out without an umbrella given how hard it was raining.

“What are we gonna do, for the cassettes and such?” Kyungsoo asked while Baekhyun flanked Chanyeol and rested his cheek against Chanyeol’s shoulder.

“We gather the money, I guess?” He said, without much enthusiasm. “Maybe we should check how much the cassettes would be, first. Then gather the money. For the flyers, honestly I doubt it would be _that_ expensive.”

“Yeah, and for those I’ll have to drop by again to give Bang PD the final file, so that his friend can print some more copies,” Kyungsoo added, scratching his nose. “Do you know anyone who draws well?”

“I’m a disaster, don’t look at me,” Chanyeol warned, shaking his head.

“Same here.”

“What about we ask Nini?” Sehun was talking to Kyungsoo directly now, his voice just a bit lower. “He draws decently.”

“Nini? Kim Jongin?” Kyungsoo repeated, both his eyebrows raised. “He draws well?”

Sehun nodded, and Kyungsoo shrugged. “We can try. You ask him?”

“It’s settled them. About the cassettes, I’ll find out how much it would cost to make a good amount of copies and then we’ll see.” Chanyeol prompted. “I’ll call one of you two to keep you updated.”

“Once we have all the material we should all have a certain amount each, so we can give them around more easily,” Kyungsoo concluded. “Well, my car is parked that way. Anyone wants a ride?”

Sehun’s hand was up before Chanyeol could even blink. In the end Baekhyun raised his hand too with a grin and Chanyeol followed.

They all crammed in the back of his car, after Chanyeol and Sehun argued for a good ten minutes about who had more rights to sit in the front— Sehun won, but only because Kyungsoo was biased. Baekhyun was quiet most of the ride.

  


.

  


In the end Bang PD had contributed to paying part of the cassette copies, since getting them done was more expensive than expected. It was a hot, sunny day. The cicadas on the trees near the school gate, not too far from The Corner, were so loud that they could be heard all the way to the basement where they’d all met.

“I think I’ll melt,” Chanyeol groaned, sprawled on the sofa they’d finally added to the room. He was half dead— he thought he would evaporate, if it kept being this hot. “Where the hell is your boyfriend?”

“Since when do you call Sehunie that?” Kyungsoo asked from the chair under the window. He had lifted his t-shirt up to his chest and was fanning himself with a piece of cardboard.

“Since when I found out he’s your boyfriend,” Chanyeol shrugged. He glanced at the door, hoping for anyone, Baekhyun or Sehun to appear, but nobody did.

“Fair enough,” was all Kyungsoo replied, which was a little disappointing, considering Chanyeol thought he was going to have some fun.

He exhaled, looking at the ceiling. “Where did you drop your cassettes?” He asked, sitting up on the couch while fixing his gaze on Kyungsoo. The drummer didn’t reach much. He grimaced, sort of, as if it was too hot to formulate an answer.

“Some people in my department, the professor. I have _a lot_ of sunbaes. My department could be more useful than we thought.”

“I never thought anything, it’s just...hot. I want to drawn in an ice bath.”

“Wanna grab some naengmyeon for dinner later?” Kyungsoo prompted, finally standing up to stretch. “It’s so hot that I want to smoke.”

“Your boyfriend will complain if you do. It stinks and all that shit,” Chanyeol warned with a cheeky grin, carding one hand through his hair.

Kyungsoo turned around snorting. “Sehun doesn’t complain much, trust me.”

“Speak of the devil,” Chanyeol said around a smile, the second they both heard noise from the top of the stairs. Baekhyun was never that noisy, and Sehun just had his own way of letting his presence be known.

“Hyung!” He shouted before he even opened the door. “Hyung!”

“Wow he must miss you a lot,” Chanyeol teased. Kyungsoo walked past him punching Chanyeol on a shoulder, before opening the door to a flustered Sehun still carrying his carton box with batch of cassettes inside.

“Hyung I-” Sehun started, then he took a breath laughing around it. “I almost gave them all away. Nini helped too, since he helped with the logo.”

“I haven’t even seen this logo yet, is it that good? You guys were all so excited about it…” Chanyeol noted, taking the box from Sehun’s hands as the bassist entered the basement.

“I have the sketch if you want, the fliers will only be ready tonight.” Sehun shared, taking his backpack off his shoulder and dropping it on his forearm. He opened it and started fumbling inside of it. “Where’s Baekhyun hyung?” He asked, as he kept searching.

“Still around giving out cassettes I suppose. He had a project for a march before that.” Chanyeol said. Baekhyun had sounded weird talking about it, as if he was forcing himself to sound enthusiastic about it. That spark Chanyeol had seen in him during that first speech, months earlier, wasn’t there shining in Baekhyun’s eyes anymore. He sounded fake, as if he didn’t really care, but he was forcing himself to be enthusiastic about it.

“Oh,” was all Sehun said, offering the sketch to Chanyeol.

It was a round logo with with a ginkgo leaf in the middle and the name of the band to the borders.

“Oh, it’s simple,” Chanyeol commented. He tilted his head to the side, trying to imagine it printed properly, maybe even colored in. “Is the version of the flyer colored?”

Sehun nodded and tossed his bag on the couch before flopping on it without energy. “I’m dead, I think I’ve given the cassette to all the music shops I could think about in the area and we still have those many left…” He sighed. “Was it really a good idea to make that much?”

Chanyeol looked at his and Kyungsoo’s box lying on the floor next to Sehun’s. Only Kyungsoo’s was almost empty, with four or five cassettes at the bottom. Chanyeol’s was still quite full, as well as Sehun’s.

He looked at the door, then at the plasticky watch on his wrist. “What’s taking so long?” He asked, more to himself than to the other two boys.

He swallowed, trying to chase away the sensation of tingling he always got at the pit of his stomach when he felt like something was wrong with anyone. As if he was expecting the worst to happen.

“Don’t get too worried, Yeol. I can see it on your face. He’s not gotten ran over by a car or anything,” Kyungsoo reassured.

“Shit hyung, why would you say that what the hell?” Sehun hurried to touch wood, and they all chuckled lightly, even Chanyeol.

He hadn’t thought of that possibility at all, and the tingling turned into nausea if he added that into the equation. He was just worried of Baekhyun not showing up at all, standing them up because of the march project, or because he just didn’t want to play anymore.

He’d looked so down in the last few days, Chanyeol hadn’t known what to do.

And with Jongdeok dropping hints…

_You wouldn’t understand, anyway_ he’d said. Chanyeol had tried to give that sentence some sense, solving absolutely nothing. Also, he was too much of a coward to question Baekhyun again — he didn’t want the singer to hate him.

“I really hope he’s buying coffee…Ice coffee…” Kyungsoo murmured dreamy.

They didn’t get much time to react, when they heard the door on top of the stairs open and Baekhyun rush down the ramp. They could hear him panting through the thick door of the basement.

“You’re 45 minutes late Byun Baekhyun,” Kyungsoo announced when Baekhyun finally opened the door to the basement with a loud bang and folded himself in half, his hands on his knees and his back heaving. He raised an arm. “I! Can explain!”

_Well he’s here at last_ , Chanyeol thought, while Sehun walked up to the singer and patted his back a couple of times with a weak smile.

“You’ve worked hard Hyung,” He said, meanwhile scratching his own temple.

Baekhyun finally straightened up with a long exhale. “The people I worked on the project with kept asking me to join them for an early dinner and in the end I could barely escape only to make it here 45 minutes late.” He sighed, walking a few steps towards the couch and falling on it like a dead weight.

“How many cassettes did you manage to give out, hyung? If you gave out any.” Sehun asked, just as Chanyeol was walking up to Baekhyun to check on him properly. Silence followed the question and Chanyeol could clearly see Baekhyun’s expression change from tired but content, to one of sudden realization.

“Oh.” He said, sitting up and looking around as if another carton box with cassettes could pop out of nowhere. “Oh shit.”

He didn’t even sound that shocked, and that’s what baffled Chanyeol the most and made him stop in his steps to stare at Baekhyun sternly. “Why?” Is all he managed to croak, as if something had gotten stuck inside his throat.

Baekhyun sighed, palming his face with a groan and hunching forward once again. “I think I left the box on the bus coming here.”

“What?” Kyungsoo said, raising his voice before Chanyeol could even open his mouth to say something— Chanyeol was vaguely glad he had, because he was at a loss of words.

Baekhyun didn’t say anything. He sucked in his lips until they were a thin line and stared at the floor. Any other time he would’ve yelled back, said something, anything. Baekhyun would’ve clipped back that it hadn’t been his fault. No, better than that, the Baekhyun Chanyeol knew wouldn’t have come there without the cassettes. He would’ve _cared_ enough to go back and look for them. Maybe he wouldn’t have forgotten them in the first place. That Baekhyun cared about the band, cared about music.

“You…” Kyungsoo started, then snorted and walked back a couple of steps. He made a turn, looked up at the window, then he came back to face the rest of the group with a smile on his face that Chanyeol had never seen before— bitter, closer to a grimace than the gentle curve of a real smile. “So you lost them. And I suppose you haven’t bothered giving out any of the cassettes before leaving them on a fucking bus, Byunbaek?”

Baekhyun still didn’t answer, which made Chanyeol’s stomach contort in both frustration and worry. He couldn’t tell if Baekhyun wasn’t responding because he knew he had screwed up, or because he didn’t care but the boy was there looking down, as if waiting for a beating.

“Can you answer please?” Kyungsoo insisted, but his voice sounded very far from nice. Even his gaze was hard, fixed on Baekhyun’s figure.

“Hyung…” Sehun hesitantly tuned in, and for  a moment Chanyeol thought the bassist was talking to Kyungsoo, until he continued. “Hyung that was a lot of money...Bang PD chipped in for us, so if we lost those cassettes we have to give the money back ourselves, because we have nothing to sell.” Sehun’s voice was only vaguely annoyed, as he went to sit on the armrest of the coach, eyeing Baekhyun sideways.

“I haven’t given any away. There was no time,” Baekhyun explained, his tone completely flat. “I’m sorry,” he added at the end but there was no depth to it, no real apology. Chanyeol couldn’t believe his ears, but at this point he wasn’t even that surprised.

_Something is happening_ , he thought.

He exhaled, as Kyungsoo marched towards the singer and stopped a few steps from him. Baekhyun flinched and turned his face to the side.

“What. I’m not gonna hit you, ByunBaek. I’m just...mad,” Kyungsoo clarified with another snort. “You’re sorry. Alright, great. Problem solved then? Baekhyun-ah that was money. That was money our band has to give back to a stranger that for God knows what divine grace decided to pay half of the price for us. Since we’re all broke.”

Baekhyun kept looking away, but he nodded. “I know,” he muttered. “I said, I’m sorry.” Only at this point he raised his gaze from the ground to Chanyeol— slowly, until he finally met his eyes and Chanyeol tilted his head to the side.

_The things I do for you, Byun baekhyun_ Chanyeol conveyed in a long, sad look.

“He said he’s sorry, Soo-ya, let him breathe,” the guitarist murmured, his voice low. He didn’t want to do this, he didn’t want to put himself between Baekhyun and his band, but this case called for an emergency plan and Chanyeol couldn’t think of anything else.

“Kyungsoo, Hyung is right,” Sehun shared, as Kyungsoo’s eyes darted towards Chanyeol, furious.

“So you’re gonna let this pass, huh?” Kyungsoo asked, his tone accusatory. He put a hand in his pocket, carded the other through his hair with a bitter groan. “Please tell me you’re not defending him just because he’s your boyfriend and you’re soft for him.”

Chanyeol stared at Baekhyun for a moment, then his eyes went back to the other two boys with furrowed brows and an exasperated expression. He couldn’t both deal with angry bandmates and his vocalist acting weird a week before a liveshow. He could feel the balance of the band cracking, the more they raised their voices, the more Baekhyun hid himself behind this invisible wall Chanyeol didn’t know how to take down.

“He didn’t do it on purpose, you heard him. He said he’s sorry. What does he have to do now, kneel and touch the ground with his forehead and ask for forgiveness?” Chanyeol questioned, sarcasm in his voice.

“He didn’t even sound sorry, to be honest. It sounds like he doesn’t give a shit. Ya, Byun Baekhyun,” Kyungsoo called. He didn’t raise his voice, his tone stayed the same. Constantly low, and yet every emotion in his tone was obvious. “You were the one who said you wanted to confirm what you felt on that stage, that it was scary but fun. Was that bullshit?”

“Hyung...Calm down…” Sehun voiced, but he didn’t insist much.

“It wasn’t,” Baekhyun replied flatly again. Kyungsoo had a point: Baekhyun didn’t sound like he was sorry. He sounded annoyed that they were bothering him with the scolding, and a part of Chanyeol wanted to punch him in the face for that. On the other hand, the guitarist was conflicted. Attacking Baekhyun like that wouldn’t have helped finding out what was wrong with him, it would’ve just made things worse.

“It wasn’t,” Kyungsoo repeated, as if analyzing the sentence.

“Kyungsoo-ya, cut the shit. C’mon. It’s just cassettes, alright? I’ll pay back for the missing part and it’ll be fine, is it ok with you?” Chanyeol tried to compromise, but Kyungsoo wasn’t having any of that.

“No, it’s not. It’s his mistake, dude, wake up. You said it yourself, he’s acting weird.” His attention went back to the vocalist, who was now eyeing the duo arguing with eyes wide open and lips pressed in a line. “You came in late last time, Hyun-ah. Right? And the producer had been very insistent that we’d go on time, because he was busy. But you were late, and we all thought that alright, it didn’t really matter as long as we managed to record.”

“I told you, I had something to do at school that day. And I already said I’m sorry, Kyungsoo-ya,” Baekhyun repeated clearly.

“Look, I’m gonna ask this once, and we’ll get over this stupid issue once and for all.” Kyungsoo offered. Chanyeol felt a jolt inside him and the instinct to just drag Baekhyun out of that room before the whole band imploded. He moved a step forward, but Kyungsoo’s words were faster.

“Do you even care about the band?”

That was it. Chanyeol grabbed Kyungsoo’s arm almost as an automatic reflex. “You’re going overboard, Soo,” Chanyeol muttered. The atmosphere was tense and heavy— they’d argued before, but _this_ , this was a first.

“Baekhyun-ah, do you even care? I know Chanyeol dragged you into this, but you’re acting like you don’t give a shit.”

Baekhyun let out a puff of air from his nose, almost amused— the wrongest reaction he could have at that moment. “Of course I do.” He shrugged, and he really didn’t sound like he did instead. Chanyeol felt his heart squeeze a little in pain. “I told you, Soo. It was an accident, I swear I didn’t do it on purpose.”

Baekhyun paused, looking down for a moment, then searching for Chanyeol’s gaze once again. “And Chanyeol is right, I can try to call the bus company and ask if they’ve found the cassettes, alright?” He sounded tired now, as he stood up and sighed— vaguely annoyed. “Does that make you happier?”

Sehun was just staring speechless at this point, and Chanyeol didn’t know what to say to defend him anymore.

“Find those cassettes.” Kyungsoo clipped back, palming his back pocket with a frown after tugging his arm free from Chanyeol’s grip. “I really don’t know what’s gotten into you lately, ByunBaek but you’re not yourself. I’m not even sure I want you in the band, if you have to almost ruin our almost opportunity to record with a renowned producer, and lose our shit because you’re thinking about school.”

Baekhyun raised both his eyebrows in confusion first, then in irony. “Well, I’m sorry if I was trying to contribute to solving the problems of this country with other people from my course I had agreed to meet with.”

Kyungsoo shrugged, taking a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. “Chanyeol was right after all. You should’ve just continued with that.”

Chanyeol bit the inside of his cheek, his eyes quickly scanning the room until they stopped on Baekhyun’s almost hurt expression.

“I’m trying my best to balance the two things, Soo,” he said, sounding sincere this time, and incredibly miserable too.

“Well,” Kyungsoo shrugged, only sparing a quick glance to the vocalist. “You suck at this balancing thing you’re trying to do, frankly speaking.”

Baekhyun didn’t respond, his head hung low as he sighed, going towards the window. He hadn’t even brought his instrument, Chanyeol noticed. There was a missing spot where all their instruments were plugged in and positioned for rehearsals and Chanyeol wondered if that wasn’t a bad omen after all.

“Are you done?” Chanyeol muttered towards Kyungsoo, not looking at him.

“Mh?”

“Are you done fucking up my band, Do Kyungsoo? You could’ve just said that it didn’t matter. He didn’t do it on purpose and we could call the company to check if they found the damn cassettes.” Chanyeol paused, flicking his chin towards the still half full boxes. “And if they don’t find them, we didn’t even give them all out.”

“I can’t believe you keep defending him,” Kyungsoo snorted, dragging some smoke from his cigarette half leaning against the doorframe. “He really makes you blind.”

“I asked, are you done fucking up my band?”

“Apparently I’m the only one who cares about _your_ damn band, Chanyeol-ah.” Kyungsoo focused on Baekhyun for a moment, as the vocalist was standing in the middle of the room fidgeting with the hem of his t-shirt and staring back at him.

“Well thank you, Do Kyungsoo. There won’t be any band if you keep being an asshole,” Chanyeol spit out bitterly, then averted his gaze from Kyungsoo and walked to the opposite wall to rest his forehead against it. It was warm.

Today it was such a hot day for arguing.

“Do whatever you want, Chanyeol-ah. That’s what you always do anyway,” Kyungsoo said back carelessly.

Sehun followed him with a frown and for once Chanyeol was glad the bassist hadn’t joined the fight more than he had. When he turned back, it was to Baekhyun’s hand on his shoulder.

“I made a mess,” he said, apologetically.

“I’ll be so mad at you if you don’t find those damn cassettes, Byunbaek,” Chanyeol warned, moving away from Baekhyun slightly, so that the vocalist wasn’t touching him anymore. “I’m not mad at you I just...want to be alone for a moment.”

Baekhyun looked sad, but he smiled faintly in understanding. “As you wish.”

Chanyeol walked back to the couch and folded himself in two until his head was hidden inside the cocoon his arms were making. He wasn’t mad at Baekhyun, but he just wished he didn’t feel so disappointed and so stupid. He also wished Kyungsoo wasn’t really mad at him. He wasn’t ready to lose yet another friend, trying to defend Baekhyun— the thought of that made his stomach lurch unpleasantly and he inhaled deeply.  
He raised his gaze again when he heard the door click closed and suddenly he was alone in the empty room.

 

.

 

When Chanyeol left the Corner that evening the sky was dark already and there was almost nobody in the street, except for the old ladies from the restaurants nearby. He’d left Kyungsoo and Sehun there— the drummer still miffed for the whole situation, the bassist trying not to have Kyungsoo and Chanyeol argue again. Baekhyun had left earlier, when Chanyeol had found himself alone in the basement and only later, checking on the other two boys, the guitarist had found out about Baekhyun leaving.

He hadn’t known how to react, at first. Baekhyun wasn’t the type to leave a conflict open like that and disappear, but Chanyeol was starting to wonder who the hell Baekhyun even was, after the past couple of weeks of total change.

It was dark and humid and Chanyeol felt helpless as he stopped in the middle of the street. He stared at the floor for a good ten seconds and focused on it so much that he could swear the asphalt was starting to sway under his feet.

He didn’t know what to do.

His band was falling apart, the guy he loved was keeping secrets from him and looked on the verge of losing his mind more often than not and they hadn’t rehearsed once, despite having a performance the week after.

Someone honked behind him and Chanyeol startled, quickly moving to the side of the road while the man in the car passing by cursed at him. Chanyeol sighed, hurrying towards the main road with his head low and his hands in his pockets.

It was still so hot and humid that his clothes and hair were sticking to his skin as he sat on the bench at the bus stop and groaned when he found it warm.

He recalled vividly the first time he’d seen Baekhyun on those stairs. He closed his eyes and it was there, Baekhyun dozing off bracing that guitar. He recalled that spark in his eyes when he’d insisted for Chanyeol to teach him and the clumsiness of his first attempts. His thoughts wandered, letting details of Baekhyun’s face or even the simplest gestures flash behind Chanyeol’s eyes.

He felt a pang in his heart when he recalled how Baekhyun had kissed him back, during their first liveshow. The adrenaline spike, the euphoria he’d felt run through his body when that had happened.

He missed that Baekhyun. His grins and his stupid laughter.

Chanyeol’s eyes suddenly fluttered open and he decided he needed to talk to Jongdeok again. It was the only real connection to the truth he could think about, because despite how the bartender had tried to brush Chanyeol’s questions off, he still obviously knew something he was hiding from Chanyeol.

The guitarist rode the first bus to Hongdae he could find, sitting on the very last seat and looking out the window. The city slowly started to roll by as the bus gained speed and it left the area around Anam-dong to get closer to Dongdaemun, and then past that as well. Chanyeol stopped looking eventually, too anxious to focus.

It was a rather quick bus ride, with more and more students and younger people getting on the further they were from the area where Ginkgo Dawn hung out usually. Chanyeol’s friends from High School used to tease him, saying that such a boring area really didn’t match Chanyeol with his guitar and his obsession for gigs and music and venues in crowded areas.

They weren’t completely wrong, but Chanyeol didn’t mind the quiet of the east of Dongdaemun-gu.

Hongdae felt too noisy and too bright on that Friday evening when Chanyeol finally got off the bus and hurried out of the massive crowd that had formed on the sidewalk the second the bus stopped.

Someone bumped into him and quickly apologized as the guitarist tried to get away from the main street and sneak into one of the quieter alleyways, so he could get to Paradise Dust quickly.

He walked past a couple of closed cafes and  small venues— death metal music coming loudly out of one of them and a few girls dressed in black with deep eyeliner were smoking not too far from the entrance. Chanyeol rushed past them without really looking, taking a right and quickly glancing around to make sure he was heading in the right direction. He was.

He kept walking until the street wasn’t that dark anymore and he wasn’t the only one there and he stopped, just a few minutes away from Paradise Dust because his pager buzzed in his pocket and his heart made a jump. _Baekhyun_ he thought, taking the little device out as quick as possible, holding his breath.

He breathed out, a little disappointed but relieved at the same time when he recognized Kyungsoo’s number on display. The pager read _one page_. He opened it. It was just a single number.

_25_

Chanyeol snorted. _Idiot_ , he thought. 25 meant _I’m sorry_ and that’s what Kyungsoo was saying after not even a couple of hours after yelling at each other. He was different from Jiho, who’d never had the courage to contact Chanyeol after the last time they’d seen each other, almost one month earlier.

Another page came immediately after. It read _425_. Call me back later.

The guitarist smiled, shoving the pager in his pocket once again and making a mental memo of really calling Kyungsoo and maybe play the part of the angry asshole for once only to laugh at him at the end. He needed to have at least one of the issues resolved, and he needed Kyungsoo for that.

He raised his gaze again to the road and what he saw just a few meters from him, in the more illuminated part of the street, made his blood run cold. He swallowed dry as he forced himself to move a few steps back in the shadow of the alleyway he was coming out from.

Baekhyun was walking on the street, in the same clothes Chanyeol had just seen him in. Next to him, Jongdeok had an arm draped around his shoulders.

Chanyeol felt a wave of nausea washing over him as he waited for the two of them to be at a decent distance for him to walk behind them without being too suspicious. He wasn’t planning to follow them all the way to their destination, he felt too guilty for that, but they seemed to be heading towards Paradise Dust, so Chanyeol felt justified in a sense.

As that wasn’t enough, Baekhyun didn’t look at ease. He wasn’t grinning like he would do in the presence of others and even his posture was rigid, as he walked next to Jongdeok. The bartender was making big gestures with his hands and talking. Chanyeol couldn’t hear what he was saying exactly, but he noticed how Baekhyun laughed— a bit off- and swiftly slid Jongdeok’s arm off his shoulder.

Chanyeol couldn’t be sure that the reason for Baekhyun’s unease was Jongdeok himself. He doubted it, having pinned Jongdeok in his life as someone trustworthy and someone nice to talk to. It hadn’t been a good day for Baekhyun, after all. Maybe that was the reason behind his posture and the fact that he looked nervous, just as he’d looked when Jongdeok had come pick him up after the recording.

And yet… Chanyeol kept having doubts.

Baekhyun and Jongdeok took a turn exactly where Chanyeol thought they would have and he followed them. It was mostly Jongdeok doing the talking, Baekhyun nodding every now and then and smiling forcibly— at least from what Chanyeol could see.

Thankfully the street was crowded enough for Chanyeol to be able to walk a few meters behind them normally and judging by the amount of people close to the open entrance of Paradise Dust, someone must’ve had a live show tonight.

Jongdeok pointed to the side street heading to the back of the pub, the usual one where people gathered to smoke and Chanyeol cursed a little inside, because that could’ve meant they wanted to go inside and Chanyeol couldn’t exactly followed them and pretended he was there by chance.

The two men didn’t enter the pub, Chanyeol noticed as he nonchalantly leaned against the wall of the building, not too far from the entrance. He made sure to look down and take his tobacco pouch out. He rolled a cigarette, then took a few seconds to light it, trying to listen to whatever conversation Jongdeok and Baekhyun were having in the backstreet.

The area around Paradise Dust wasn’t the most quiet, but both Baekhyun and Jongdeok weren’t paying too much attention to the volume of their voices, so with a little more effort and concentration than usual, Chanyeol could overhear at least part of their conversation.

They were talking about Baekhyun’s march, and more stuff related to it that Chanyeol didn’t really understand. He didn’t even know Jongdeok was into politics and demonstrations, but they weren’t that close anyway. It was possible.

“Who’s playing tonight?” Chanyeol heard Baekhyun ask, as he took a drag of smoke from his cigarette. “Isn’t there more people around this time? It’s not that late.”

“I guess, but this band isn’t that popular. I can’t even remember their name to be honest,” Jongdeok chortled. Chanyeol made a clicking sound with his tongue against the roof of his mouth. He’d thought Jongdeok would know everyone in the field.

“That’s mean of you, Hyung. You should at least know who plays,” Baekhyun retorted, but there wasn’t that usual cheekiness in his voice, that _quid_ that made Baekhyun so fun.

Maybe he was just tired, or maybe he wasn’t.

“I’m just the bartender, Hyun-ah, I’m not supposed to know everyone. Plus do you even know how many people are thinking of forming a band in Seoul this very minute?” He paused. “345 people. There’s so many bands right now in this damn city that you wonder how many of them are gonna make it.”

Baekhyun didn’t say anything, or maybe Chanyeol didn’t hear. The guitarist frowned, taking another drag and wondering how Jongdeok hadn’t come up with a similar argument with him instead. He’d always supported Chanyeol’s band, or so Chanyeol had thought. Apparently he’d been fooled.

“We met with the producer a couple of days ago, Hyung. He really seems to have plans for us and we have a gig next week.” There it was, what Chanyeol was looking for in Baekhyun’s voice. It was faint, but it was there, he could hear it clearly. The tone he’d used had completely changed from flat, to hopeful? Chanyeol couldn’t tell exactly, without seeing Baekhyun expression but he just _knew_.

Jongdeok hummed, not really impressed. It left Chanyeol baffled, because he’d expected cheers from the bartender, not a flat, non interested hum.  
  
“And until when do you think that’s going to last?” Jongdeok questioned.

Chanyeol’s eyes went wide, his hand halting before he could take another drag of smoke.

“I mean, you do your live show and you can succeed or not, but the producer being nice to you only depends on that. If you don’t succeed, you’re as good as trash to him.”

Chanyeol didn’t know whether to laugh or to cry at this point, as his mental image of Jongdeok, all he ever believed the guy was, had crumbled in a few sentences.

“I know hyung, which is why I’m trying to balance between the two things…” Baekhyun replied apologetically.

Chanyeol heard Jongdeok sigh. “I still think you should leave the band.”

_What?_

Chanyeol’s heart skipped a beat and he choked on the smoke of his cigarette, folding himself in two trying to cough it out like a newbie. He tried to muffle the sound covering his mouth with his free hand, as he kept listening.

“It’s no good for someone like you who already has plans for their lives. Just leave the band before things become more official and start looking for a part time in your field,” the bartender said.

Baekhyun stayed silent for a few very long seconds, as Chanyeol regained his breath and tried to make sense of what he’d just heard. It didn’t make sense. _It didn’t make any sense_. Why would Jongdeok want Baekhyun out of the band, why was he acting like that?

Had he been pressuring Baekhyun like that since the beginning?

“I know hyung, but I can’t leave the band so suddenly, and the other guys-” Baekhyun tried, but Jongdeok cut his sentence.

“You’ve worked so hard for what you have right now, why throw it away? Junki would’ve wanted you to continue what he couldn’t do, you know.”

Chanyeol felt like throwing up when the name of Baekhyun’s past lover was brought up. And it wasn’t jealousy at this point, it was anger. Jongdeok was an asshole.

“I know…” Was all Baekhyun managed to say. “I guess I’ll have to think about it, hyung.” His voice had no energy in it. It felt like Jongdeok had burned out all of Baekhyun’s light with that last statement.

Chanyeol threw the cigarette to the floor, before closing his hand in a fist and punching the wall behind him with the side of it. He felt betrayed, not only from Jongdeok, but from Baekhyun as well.

_I’ll have to think about it_ , he’d said. Chanyeol’s heart had cracked right there. He had expected Baekhyun to fight back and shout back how important the band was for him. Yet he hadn’t. He was thinking of leaving the band.

“Let’s go inside, c’mon.” Jongdeok said, and the clang of the door being open could be heard from where Chanyeol was still standing, trying to fight the urge to run there and punch Jongdeok first, then yell at Baekhyun.

“I can’t stay long, though. I don’t want to miss the last bus home,” Baekhyun replied.

Jongdeok said something back, but they were almost inside already and Chanyeol couldn’t hear. His mind was in a jumble and even his heart was beating so fast it was almost deafening. He’d told Baekhyun to join the band because he thought a voice like that couldn’t stay silent.

He’d insisted so much, all of that because Baekhyun was gorgeous when he was singing. He looked so happy and so free Chanyeol hadn’t been able to stay put. Yet Baekhyun was ready to give it all up, because _that’s what hyung would’ve wanted_. It both broke Chanyeol’s heart and made him so so angry at Baekhyun, at Jongdeok and hell, even at this damn Junki hyung, may his soul rest in peace.

They could all go to hell.

He pulled himself away from the wall he was leaning against, and moved a few step forward, munching on the corner of his bottom lip. _They can all go to hell_ he thought again, as he purposely bumped into someone as he was leaving.

Then he stopped, as he realized if he asked Baekhyun about this any other time, the vocalist would’ve probably avoided the question just like he’d done until then. Part of him, though it hurt to admit it, didn’t want to leave Baekhyun alone, after noticing how down he’d  sounded.

He left the area in front of the entrance where more people were gathered and moved to the side, waiting for Baekhyun’s blonde head to appear at some point. The nausea, that weird sensation of pull and nervousness in his stomach grew the more minutes passed.

Chanyeol went through three cigarettes before Baekhyun appeared at the entrance of the pub and walked out of it looking down at the floor, one hand rubbing one of his eyes in tiredness.

Chanyeol didn’t even have to stand up and reach out, because Baekhyun noticed him first and his face went from tired to shock to angry in the span of two seconds. He zigzagged through the people outside of Paradise Dust as music started playing inside the pub.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Baekhyun asked without even greeting Chanyeol.

The guitarist was taken aback slightly. He hadn’t imagined Baekhyun to be this snappy, not to yell at him for being at Paradise Dust, which was a place Chanyeol went to quite often after all.

“Well hi…?” Chanyeol said, putting on the best fake smile he could, as Jongdeok’s words replayed into his mind as a mantra he really didn’t want to hear.

“You followed me?” Baekhyun insisted, coming up closer to Chanyeol who was leaning against yet another wall. He wanted to look intimidating and angry, and Chanyeol wasn’t having any of that. He was angry too, he was mad at him and he wasn’t keeping silent this time.

“When are you leaving the band?” Chanyeol retorted, and that made Baekhyun go rigid all of a sudden.

“What?”

“When. Are you leaving the band? Because you said you would think about it, so yeah. Let’s think about it, ByunBaek. When are you leaving it? Just so we-”

“You eavesdropped too?” Baekhyun snorted. “I can’t believe it, I trusted you.”

Chanyeol raised both his eyebrows, pulling himself away from the wall and looking down at Baekhyun. “Ah. _You_ trusted me. As if _I_ was the one keeping secrets from you. Secrets that will throw all of our band’s efforts to shit.”

A few people turned around to look at them and Baekhyun must’ve noticed, because he looked around with unease and muttered. “Let’s not do this here.”

Chanyeol just nodded and they left, heading towards one of the side alleyways of Hongdae. They stopped not too far from that venue where Chanyeol had heard Death Metal music playing inside— nobody was there. People who didn’t want to party had left already, and people who did had all crashed into pubs and clubs already.

“You didn’t reply,” Chanyeol reminded Baekhyun as the vocalist knuckled up his glasses, tilting his head to the side slightly.

“There’s nothing to reply. I never said I would leave, and you shouldn’t have followed us.” Baekhyun repeated.

Chanyeol snorted, looking away from the singer and moving a few steps behind as he shoved his hands in his pockets. “So that you could keep secrets from me until the end? When were you gonna drop the bomb huh? And here I was, worrying for your like the idiot I am because I thought something was wrong with you.”

“This is exactly why I was keeping it from you and everyone, because you would’ve freaked out like you’re doing right now, Park Chanyeol.” Baekhyun’s voice almost echoed in the street as he talked. “Also, as I said I’m still trying to balance the two things, and-”

“No Baekhyun, you have no intention of balancing shit. You’ve made your choice already. You came late to our recording. The recording Hyun-ah. Do you realize how important that was? Clearly you didn’t.” Chanyeol shoved a hand in front of Baekhyun’s face, showing him a number one with his index. It turned to a number two as he kept talking. “Then you almost told Yongguk we didn’t want the second live show he was so nice to find for us-”

“Because that was fucking suicide Park Chanyeol!”

“And since when you’re such a coward? Eh? Since when Byun Baekhyun? Because the Baekhyun I remembered stood on a damn stage without lyrics and without even knowing how to play properly and hell, you rocked it, Baekhyun. You rocked it. So what is this exactly? Where is this fear coming from?” Chanyeol asked and Baekhyun recoiled, walking back a few steps.

“You said you want us to succeed, didn’t you? You heard Jongdeok, he said there’s plenty of bands in this city already. If we go and flop a damn stage it’s the end for us before it even starts, Park Chanyeol. Do you even think?” Baekhyun asked, then carded his hand through his hair in frustration and turned back to meet Chanyeol’s gaze. “If we go on that stage as we are now as a band, with me as I am now we’re gonna flop so hard Chanyeol and I’m scared of that.”

Chanyeol didn’t even consider what Baekhyun had just said. The adrenaline, the anger made him speak without even thinking things out properly. “You don’t know. Damn, you can’t know if we will flop or not, Baekhyun. What we can do is work hard and make sure that we don’t flop, exactly because there’s way too many bands out there and not every single one of those gets noticed by a producer. And those who do, don’t refuse such an opportunity.”

“This is so childish…” Baekhyun murmured under his breath, avoiding Chanyeol’s gaze. “Hyung was right this is so stupid.”

Chanyeol wasn’t sure if Baekhyun was referring to Jongdeok or to his past lover at this point, but it made his blood boil anyway. He darted closer to Baekhyun, grabbing his t-shirt and pulling him closer— it would’ve looked sexual, if they hadn’t been yelling at each other and Chanyeol hadn’t been so angry.

“Nothing is stupid about us; about me, Kyungsoo and Sehun trying to do this, Baekhyun-ah. Nothing. And what you feel is not fear of failure. You made your choice already, because _hyung would want that_. Jongdeok hyung said one word, and you were convinced already,” Chanyeol spit out, and let go of Baekhyun’s t-shirt to walk a few steps backwards and turn his back to him.

Baekhyun hesitated or simply stayed silent for a few seconds. “I spent my whole life trying to live up to the standards of that person. I did politics because he did politics and I was there trying to learn all these things I didn’t even know what they were because he said they were important and music was a childish dream.”

Chanyeol was taken aback for a moment, then the real meaning of Baekhyun’s statement hit him in the face with such intensity that he couldn’t breathe for a moment. So the _things_ that had prevented Baekhyun from doing music were a person. They were the person he loved. “And now you’re doing politics because he’s dead, and you’re living in your memory? Do you realize how much bullshit this is?”

“It may be bullshit for you, but it’s important for me, I spent half my life doing that and I can’t throw that away for a pipe dream,” Baekhyun insisted.

“Don’t you realize he destroyed your dream when he was alive? He was keeping you away from it. You fucking went to prison because of _his_ dream. And you’re still allowing him to keep you away from music even when he’s dead!” Chanyeol yelled at him, turning around to face Baekhyun and finding him oddly beautiful in the darkness, no matter how angry he was or how much he wanted to punch him.

“That’s what he would’ve wanted me to do,” Baekhyun responded without much bite in his tone at this point. It made Chanyeol snap like the string of a guitar when played too aggressively.

“But he’s dead, Baekhyun!” He yelled. Chanyeol closed the distance between him and Baekhyun instinctively, without even thinking about what he was seeing or saying. What he knew was that Baekhyun was gorgeous even when he looked so angry and miserable at the same time. What he knew was that he wanted to push Baekhyun down and kiss him senseless until he couldn’t breathe again, and also cover his body in those kisses, in bites. He didn’t even know anymore.

He cradled Baekhyun’s face and just kissed him hard, aggressively, pushing in with his tongue before Baekhyun was even kissing back. The vocalist ran his hands through Chanyeol’s hair, then pulled at it hard as he sucked at his bottom lip and bit it hard, to the point where Chanyeol felt the metallic taste of blood into his mouth.

Baekhyun drew back, panting into Chanyeol’s mouth and looking into his eyes. Chanyeol expected a punch, a slap, a kick in the balls. Instead Baekhyun kissed him again.  


They walked the corridor to their room in the motel in silence, close enough for their hands to graze and far enough for their shoulders not to touch. It was silent— Chanyeol could hear Baekhyun’s breathing and his own too; the gingling of the key to the room — Baekhyun made it hit his own thigh as he moved.

Whatever had happened after their kiss in that alleyway was a blur. Baekhyun’s lips against his own. Teeth - a lot of teeth and the metallic taste of blood. Baekhyun’s hand in his as the vocalist dragged him further away from the main streets of Hongdae to the more peripheral ones. Chanyeol was still upset as he entered the motel — one with flashy lights and shady entrances. They had to go through a parking lot to get inside, and Chanyeol didn’t even pay attention to what the person at the lobby looked like.

The woman — or was it a man? Had glanced at their linked hands, that much Chanyeol had registered. Then it it was like there were time lapses; one moment they were on the ground floor, the other he was next to Baekhyun on the twelfth floor and the air was heavy, electric almost and yet way too calm, considering the adrenaline Chanyeol still felt boiling loudly in the background.

They stopped in front of the motel room and Baekhyun turned the key in the lock without looking at him. He was the one opening the door and Chanyeol the one walking behind him, slamming the door closed without much care once inside. He noticed Baekhyun flinch a little at the noise that echoed in the room, but didn’t comment on it.

He looked at the singer long and attentively, as Baekhyun was taking off his shoes— half crouching on the floor as he undid the laces of his converse. There was a clock ticking in Chanyeol’s head, a timer going backwards before an explosion. His breaths grew deeper and more distanced as he stared at Baekhyun’s back, at his fingers working with the knots of his shoes. He wasn’t even half done when the timer went off.

Chanyeol wasn’t thinking.

He had stopped thinking at least thirty minutes earlier, after they’d kissed in that dark street.

Baekhyun was avoiding his gaze.

The guitarist moved forward, grabbing Baekhyun’s arm and pulling him up forcefully, suddenly to the point where Baekhyun stumbled on his shoes. Chanyeol slammed him against the door, grabbing his chin and tilting it up slightly, forcing the singer to face him.

He just wanted Baekhyun to _look at him_ for once, so he said it, and he didn’t care if he sounded like either he was begging or insulting him. “Look at me,” he said once, and then repeated it one more time since Baekhyun kept staring at something past him— the window behind them, the bed, Chanyeol wasn’t sure. _Look at me_.

Baekhyun slowly dragged his eyes from the room to Chanyeol’s. It wasn’t a sweet gaze, it wasn’t playful nor amused. It was furious, it was mocking. He was daring Chanyeol to do something, because Baekhyun knew Chanyeol would be flustered, he knew he had that effect on him. He was expecting Chanyeol to retreat, to avert his gaze from him.

Chanyeol didn’t. That daring gaze, Chanyeol didn’t know what to do with it anymore. What he wanted was for Baekhyun to give in once, just once. He wanted to consume him, to ravage him whole until nothing was left, and he wanted Baekhyun to let him.

He crashed his lips against Baekhyun’s with such urge and force that Baekhyun’s head hit the door and the vocalist whined into the kiss, wrapping his arms around Chanyeol’s torso and quickly, frantically lifting his t-shirt, reaching for the skin below. He clawed at it as he bit down Chanyeol’s tongue, hard, merciless.

The guitarist groaned in pain, only to push Baekhyun on the door once more, almost crashing him against it. His hand went from the singer’s chin to the back of his head, then through his hair, as he pulled at it with a jerk. Baekhyun made a short, guttural sound in response, either from the shock or the pain, or maybe both— Chanyeol didn’t react.

He broke the kiss tilting Baekhyun’s head back before gazing at him; the boy was panting, his face flushed and his eyes slightly closed, lips parted. “Why did you stop?” Baekhyun whispered halfway between smug and dazed— his breath fanning against Chanyeol’s lips. Baekhyun’s hands slid all the way down the expanse of his back back, then up again and he lifted Chanyeol’s shirt up with them.

“Shut up,” Chanyeol muttered back, retreating enough to take off his shirt and toss it to the ground distractedly.

Baekhyun was on him immediately before Chanyeol could even look at him, pushing the guitarist back towards the bed instead. He pressed another aggressive kiss to his lips, pushing his tongue in, holding Chanyeol’s face in place with a hand on his jaw. Chanyeol gasped into it as Baekhyun went for the button of Chanyeol’s jeans first, then changed his mind, wrapping his arms around Chanyeol’s neck instead, almost desperate.

Chanyeol had to stop in the middle of the room when Baekhyun clearly started pressing himself against the guitarist, grinding against his leg with muffled, weak moans fed into Chanyeol’s mouth.

The guitarist’s hands went down to his butt, pulling Baekhyun closer and pressing the two of them against each other, until he felt Baekhyun inhale into the kiss and break it abruptly. With a louder gasp, he went to hide his face in the crook of Chanyeol’s shoulder— his breath so light and quick that he almost sounded like he was hyperventilating.

Chanyeol lifted him up and Baekhyun wrapped his legs around his torso without lifting his head from his shoulder. Instead, he kissed the guitarist’s neck as if he wanted to leave a mark, while Chanyeol moved across the room towards the bed.

It was a sudden piercing pain that Chanyeol felt, as Baekhyun bit down on the same patch of skin he’d been kissing— the pain to mixed with a pang of pleasure when Baekhyun kissed the throbbing area again.

He felt a shiver run down his spine, his senses all over the place. He’d thought he’d be leading this, and realizing he wasn’t, and that Baekhyun clearly wanted control, made him even more furious. He needed to know he had some kind of control, some kind of power over Baekhyun. He needed it just once.

He threw the boy on the bed and Baekhyun just made a muffled _umph_ noise when he hit the mattress and turned on his belly. Chanyeol didn’t give him much time before he climbed on the bed on his knees and wrapped one arm around Baekhyun’s torso. He quickly undid his jeans button, then retreated to pull down both the vocalist’s jeans and boxers at once. He tugged more time when the jeans pooled at Baekhyun’s ankles and discarded them as soon as he could.

Baekhyun turned around slightly to meet his eyes, but it was Chanyeol’s turn to avoid his gaze. He was torn between wanting to look at Baekhyun constantly, and being too mad at him to actually want to see him.

He climbed over him as Baekhyun peeled his shirt off quickly. Chanyeol lingered just above his lips for a moment, breathing in and out heavily, and Baekhyun pushed himself up a little, sliding his tongue on the seam of Chanyeol’s lips. He nipped at the guitarist’s bottom lip, pulling it between his teeth. It was still sore from Baekhyun’s previous bite, and Chanyeol couldn’t help the yelp that came out of his mouth when Baekhyun pierced the skin deeper with his teeth.

He gasped, as Chanyeol pushed him down on the mattress again with a hand on his torso and the other spreading his legs. “Lube,” Baekhyun reminded him in a murmur. Chanyeol didn’t reply, reaching out into the bed stand drawer and fishing out the bottle.

He didn’t indulge too much in the process. He lowered his pants enough, then quickly spread the lube between Baekhyun’s asskcheeks and pushed in, quicker than he would’ve done normally. He didn’t care when Baekhyun gasped first, and then groaned as he tried to adjust to the pain. He slapped Chanyeol’s shoulder then his back multiple times before gripping at his skin until the other was in completely.

Chanyeol took the sight of Baekhyun staring at him, with unchanged anger in his eyes and he swallowed, breathing in deeply before moving again. It felt like being electrocuted as pleasure ran through his veins all of a sudden. Baekhyun muffled a shout, then gasped as if he was lacking oxygen as he wrapped himself around Chanyeol completely. It was overwhelming. The guitarist could almost feel him shake, and normally that would’ve stopped him, but this time it didn’t.

Instead he thrusted in harder. Baekhyun panted, pulling Chanyeol closer until he could dig his teeth into his shoulder and hide another sob into it. After, he kissed there, poking the skin with his tongue. He moved from the shoulder to Chanyeol’s neck, biting until Chanyeol was sure he’d left a mark, then clawing all the way from the guitarist’s shoulder blades to his asscheeks.

Chanyeol grunted when Baekhyun pulled his hair again, only to go and bite his jaw, then kiss up to his cheekbone and finally bite down on his earlobe, digging into the flesh. Chanyeol jolted from the sting and the shiver running down his spine and grabbed Baekhyun’s shoulders to get him to finally release.

When he did, Baekhyun was grinning at him, mocking him again. “Look who’s all hot and bothered,” he teased and Chanyeol stopped moving abruptly. He stared at Baekhyun with ragged breath and a face so red that he thought it could combust.

Baekhyun sighed in complaint, trying to move himself a little before Chanyeol pulled out completely, his gaze still on Baekhyun’s eyes. “What are you doing?” Baekhyun asked, definitely frustrated as he started reaching out for Chanyeol again.

“Why are you talking so much?” Chanyeol clipped back, his voice low. He leaned onto Baekhyun again and kissed his ribcage lightly while caressing his hip, until he felt Baekhyun shiver under his touch. Then he moved lower, and dug his teeth on his stomach to leave a very light mark. It made Baekhyun sob while he rested his legs on Chanyeol’s shoulders.

Chanyeol moved backwards on his knees, spreading one of Baekhyun’s legs— he could see the inside of his thigh and he looked at it, before lowering himself to kiss there, then looking up to search for Baekhyun’s gaze as he did. Baekhyun was holding his breath, looking as wrecked as Chanyeol had ever seen him before. Yet he didn’t look vulnerable, nor weak, and that made him look even more wildly beautiful in Chanyeol’s eyes.

Chanyeol averted his gaze and closed his eyes, as he bit down on Baekhyun’s thigh and he kept biting, feeling the flesh yield under his teeth, soft and slightly salty. Baekhyun shouted for the first time, throwing one arm backwards instinctively and hitting the bed stand with his wrist.

He jolted as he kept breathing loudly, the breaths turning into interrupted sobs. Chanyeol bit harder, until he was almost sure he would draw blood if he kept going and Baekhyun spasmed for a moment, then Chanyeol let go and the boy sighed in relief.

Baekhyun sat up suddenly, kneeling on the mattress and pushing Chanyeol down instead, so that he could straddle him. He eased on Chanyeol’s erection nibbling on his bottom lips as he started moving on his own, riding the pleasure at his own rhythm.

“You look at me now,” he said angrily around a gasp, and Chanyeol did, grabbing the boys’ wrists as Baekhyun put his weight on Chanyeol’s chest and then pulling him down to him with a moan, so the could bite some kisses into his lips once more.

  


Chanyeol kissed Baekhyun’s back as he finally pulled out slowly and Baekhyun lowered his head on his forearm, still grabbing on the headboard of the bed.

Baekhyun’s back was a mess of bites and bruises, but as he looked in the mirror on the dressing table on the other side of the room, Chanyeol noticed clear shapes of teeth all over his neck and clavicles. He stared at them for a moment, wondering if he was the one who’d claimed Baekhyun, or if it was just Baekhyun who’d claimed Chanyeol as his, as usual.

He quickly searched for a cigarette and walked in the bathroom naked, keeping the stick between his lips as he took two towels from the chair next to the sink. He poured some water onto one of them until it was damp. He went back to the bedroom, only to find the singer still catching his breath where he’d left him.

Chanyeol quickly climbed on the bed, moving closer to Baekhyun on his knees and spreading a towel next to his legs. He patted his butt once. “C’mon,” he said, meaning for Baekhyun to lie down.

Baekhyun raised his head and looked at Chanyeol tiredly. “Ah. Yeah,” he said, moving unhurriedly until he finally rolled on his side on the towel Chanyeol had prepared. “You’re getting better at this,” Baekhyun said, only vaguely teasing. He was looking at Chanyeol in a way he hadn’t looked at him before, and it took Chanyeol by surprise— the fondness, in it. Almost tender. He brushed it off, as he sat on the bed.

Chanyeol would’ve chuckled, if Baekhyun’s words from earlier didn’t still ring so vivid into his ears. “I don’t know if I want to talk to you, yet,” he muttered, quite honestly, before taking a drag of smoke and blowing it out slowly.

Baekhyun didn’t look hurt, when Chanyeol lowered his gaze to him, but again, Chanyeol wasn’t able to interpret his expression much. “Can I have some of that?” Baekhyun asked instead, and Chanyeol just nodded.

He leaned in, one hand on Baekhyun’s cheek as he took another drag, and slowly kissed the smoke into Baekhyun’s lips.

It was still night and the room was only dimly lit from the neon sign of another motel across the street. As he helped Baekhyun clean himself up, Chanyeol took one more look at the sign he’d left on Baekhyun’s thigh.

It was angry and red, and he wondered if it would scar. It wouldn’t be the first scar he’d left on the vocalist, and maybe not the last either. He wondered if him leaving scars on him wasn’t a way to make him his, knowing he wasn’t completely.


	15. Track 14

**Track 14**

 

“Let’s wait a bit more,” Sehun said with a sigh, deflating on the couch on the side of the room, still bracing his bass plugged into the amp. He plucked the strings starting his own rendition of ‘Enter Sandman’ by Metallica while looking elsewhere, as he followed the rhythm bobbing his head with both his lips pulled in between his teeth.

Baekhyun was late again and Chanyeol was starting to feel that sense of dread that anyone would get when staring at the bottom of a cliff, knowing that if they trip it’s a free fall. He was sitting on the ground, Baekhyun’s Gibson on his lap and his back against the amp the guitar was plugged in to. It made him feel safer to hold the guitar— the only stable thing in the mess that was the situation of him with Baekhyun, of Baekhyun with the band, of...everything, really.

He chewed on his bottom lip looking down, as he tuned the guitar almost by muscle memory. He tightened up one of the keys, loosened the other— all of this while flicking the strings until he got the sound he wanted and he could move to the other string. He wasn’t paying attention to what he was doing at all, his mind wandering to dangerous thoughts as he lifted his gaze to the closed door of the basement.

“I think maybe we should start on our own…” Chanyeol said, blocking the strings altogether laying a hand flat on them and hanging his head low.

He expected some kind of response from the others, but it didn’t come. What followed was a weird silence— even Sehun had stopped playing his bass all of a sudden. Chanyeol raised his eyes to focus on the bassist and realized he’d been caught, when he noticed Sehun’s absolutely shocked expression.

“Hyung, is there something wrong?” Sehun asked, putting his bass aside to lay on the sofa horizontally. Kyungsoo simply stared with a raised eyebrow and a confused face.

“You were all for Byun’s team last time, what happened to that? Do you really want us to start without him?” Kyungsoo asked, more serious than worried, differently to Sehun. He put out his cigarette flicking it into the usual empty plastic bottle they changed periodically to be their makeshift ashtray.

Chanyeol inhaled and then groaned, hunching forward until his forehead touched the side of Baekhyun’s guitar. “I don’t know…” He replied disheartened “I…” He sighed and looked up to meet Kyungsoo’s gaze as soon as the drummer closed the distance between them and crouched in front of him. “I screwed up, ok? I don’t know anymore.”

Kyungsoo frowned, searching for Sehun’s eyes. The bassist raised both hands, shaking his head to confirm that he had no idea. “What are you talking about?” Kyungsoo asked, sitting down cross legged in front of Chanyeol, as if bracing himself for some kind of deep conversation around a bonfire.

Chanyeol missed Jiho.

It hit him as a sudden revelation with a pang to his chest, as he followed the shape of the strings of the Gibson with his fingertips. He wanted to talk with someone, he needed to let at least something out otherwise he would lose it, and he missed Jiho. Jiho, the bastard who’d never even tried to contact him after the episode at the chicken restaurant months earlier; Jiho who knew all of Chanyeol’s secrets since they were kids, from the GameBoy Super Mario game he’d stolen from Yoora to his first kiss.

Chanyeol looked up at Kyungsoo, then Sehun and realized they had to do, if he didn’t want to go insane. “I tried to talk to Baekhyun, about the band and...whatever has been going on with him lately. I wanted to fix it, but I think I made it worse, and now I can’t even talk to him and-” He paused, breathed in. “I don’t know.”

Kyungsoo frowned further. “And what is it that is happening with him?”

Chanyeol focused on the drummer, then moved his gaze to the floor, hesitant. It wasn’t a secret for him to tell, no matter how much the others had the right to know and he didn’t know how much he could tell, without him turning into the asshole spilling other people’s secrets.

“I can’t go too much into detail, because...It’s his own private matter and I shouldn’t have meddled with it myself, but I was worried and he looked...so distressed.”

“So?” Kyungsoo said, before Sehun chimed in too.

“We don’t need to know everything, hyung. But I think have the right to know at least something. What happened last time was...shitty, hyung.” Sehun was looking more at Kyungsoo than Chanyeol at this point.

Chanyeol huffed, nodding slowly. He’d pushed Baekhyun away once, that day when Kyungsoo and him had argued, and he’d pushed him away again though wanting to talk to him so badly, that night at the motel.  

“He’s doing something that I think is very destructive for him and he’ll end up being more miserable than he was when we first met, and I can’t tell you more, but…” He frantically searched for his bandmates gaze, for their understanding. “I just want him to be happy, you know? I just...don’t want him to do this to himself.”

Kyungsoo hummed, but he didn’t add anything, and Chanyeol didn’t know if that reassured him, or made him even more anxious. They’d opened a pandora box, because Chanyeol had bottled everything up until now, stowed away all his anxiety and fear in a secret closet and pretended to forget about it. But now that he’d started, he wasn’t sure how to stop.

“And I feel like such an asshole when I think about it, but what if he leaves us? What happens to us if he just...goes?”

“I’m sure it’s not going to happen, Hyung,” Sehun tried to reassure him hunching forward with his elbows on his knees. “We’re all just very stressed lately, because everything is so new and such…”

It wasn’t like that, it went far beyond that and both Sehun and Kyungsoo weren’t getting it fully. “You don’t know Sehun. What if we have to consider the possibility he might leave? Hell _I_ brought him here, I insisted so much for him to join and...I feel so bad for thinking this but…” _I have my reasons_ he wanted to say, but he held himself back before he could.

“Is it that bad?” Kyungsoo asked, giving up on reassuring Chanyeol and opting for his usual pragmatic tone.

“It’s the worst. And what he’s doing to himself, I’m terrified it’s gonna affect us all negatively, and I feel responsible about it, both because I wanted to fix it, but I made it worse, and both because I was the one who insisted for Baekhyun to be here in the first place.”

It was harder to breathe, as this sensation of dread washed over him; his mind flashed images of their conversation in that alleyway, the way he’d shouted at Baekhyun, then Baekhyun on the bed, naked under him. He sighed.

“We have a show in two days and we’re really not doing well. But I think it’ll be alright, and I guess Baekhyun will come to his senses somehow, or somewhen,” Kyungsoo conceded, going back to look at Sehun with an expression that Chanyeol couldn’t catch.

“He doesn’t talk to me anymore and I can’t talk to him now… I…” He stopped, trying to make sense of his own words. “I don’t know what to do guys. I thought I was gonna protect him but I just made even a worse mess of what was already a mess that I had no idea how to fix. And I still don’t.”

“Yeol, you’re panicking,” Kyungsoo commented, concern in his voice.

“I am because it’s been an hour and he’s not here yet... I have the most awful feeling that he won’t come, and it would be my fault too,” Chanyeol concluded, finally standing up with a long exhale and proceeding to put the guitar on its stand.

“Hyung, Baekhyun hyung is not going to stand us up out of the blue _and_ without telling one of us at least,” Sehun reassured once more. “Mh? We have a performance in two days, let’s try our best.”

Chanyeol smiled at him faintly and hoped Sehun was right, though that constant feeling of uneasiness stuck to him like a parasite feeding on all of his energy and enthusiasm. He really wanted to do his best, he wished for the performance to go well, but he had no confidence in how he would perform in a couple of days. He was always scared before live shows, it was routine. This, however, wasn’t the usual pleasantly tingly fear, the kind that comes before euphoria, no. This was waiting for something you know it’s hanging on your head to finally drop.

Maybe Baekhyun had been right, telling Bang PD they weren’t ready for this performance. Maybe Chanyeol had been an idiot to accept and insist.

The door upstairs opened and the sound reached the basement, followed by unhurried steps coming down the stairs. Sehun smiled, visibly relieved as he stretched back on the couch and offered a hand to Chanyeol.

“See? I told you he wouldn’t stand us up,” he said. “Where is my money?”

Chanyeol grunted, his heart making a jump all the way to his throat then beating crazily in a syncopated rhythm. “I didn’t bet on anything, so no money for you Hun,” Chanyeol muttered, his eyes fixed on the door until a tuft of blonde hair appeared through the door glass. Then he averted his gaze, stumbling back as Sehun tried to kick him on the shin.  

There was something that suggested he didn’t look at Baekhyun. Maybe sense of guilt, after what had happened. _I don’t know if I want to talk to you yet_ , he’d said, and he hadn’t thought anything of it at the moment, but now he wished he’d taken a moment more to read through Baekhyun’s blank expression, through his silence.

“Hi,” Baekhyun said, sounding so dejected that Chanyeol couldn’t resist the urge to look up.

Baekhyun was smiling but it didn’t reach his eyes; the smile itself made him look even more down. “I’m sorry,” he said, walking in without really looking at anyone. “I don’t have any excuse guys, I’m...just very sorry,” he said on the edge of a sigh.

Chanyeol’s heart clenched in worry. He didn’t know what to do, and that made him feel so frustrated and powerless at the same time he just wanted to yell, break something. Kyungsoo and Sehun must’ve felt the shift of atmosphere, as if the air had just become a bit less breathable, and they stayed silent as Baekhyun quietly took his guitar from the stand and slung it on.

“Can we just start?” He asked, his voice incredibly low.

“It’s alright Hyung,” Sehun said with a genuine smile. Most of the times Chanyeol was so glad Sehun existed; he was the youngest, but also the glue keeping them all together and trying to cheer them up when things were looking gloomy.

Baekhyun hummed back nodding faintly as Sehun stood up, taking his bass with him. “Should we practice our original track first?” Sehun asked, shooting a long deep glance at Chanyeol as he walked past him to the right of the room. It was his _What the hell?_ look, to which Chanyeol just sighed once more.

Kyungsoo was the last to walk to the drums. “Don’t worry about it too much, Hyun,” he said sitting on his stool and picking up his drumsticks. “Let’s focus on this now, alright?”

Baekhyun seemed startled for a moment, but he forced a chuckle as he tentatively put his fingers on the frets and strummed a few chords. “Alright,” he agreed, but he didn’t sound too convinced.

Chanyeol was too tense to say anything. He kept standing there, way more rigid than his usual posture, as he looked at Baekhyun’s profile and wondered why the hell he’d said what he’d said. Why he’d done what he’d done.

He couldn’t concentrate, at all. His fingers were all over the place already, and they hadn’t started the song either. There was a giant void in his mind, as he realized he was terrified of facing Baekhyun; terrified of the consequences of what had happened. _He’s here now, but will he stay?_

And the other, more important thought. _What am I to him?_

Chanyeol clumsily started the melody after Kyungsoo had cleared his voice twice, urging him to start. The melody was supposed to be calming at the beginning, like the start of a long lost, pleasant memory, however no matter how much Chanyeol tried to make it flow, it just wouldn’t.

Baekhyun inserted himself in the melody, and even his attack was clean but detached somehow. Chanyeol couldn’t explain clearly, but it felt like the two of them weren’t even playing the same melody. The music stuttered as Chanyeol missed a pause and frowned, his cheeks flaming red. He noticed Baekhyun looking at him for a moment, and that made him even more nervous. He didn’t know if it was his guitar giving up on him, or if it were his fingers instead but when Baekhyun started his singing part, Chanyeol knew he had to stop for a moment.

He stopped playing, both Sehun and Baekhyun halting consequently with an arched brow. They weren’t compact, they weren’t harmonizing at all. The three of them were playing alone at the same time. It didn’t work.

“Sorry, I messed it up,” Chanyeol admitted with a smile he forced on his lips because he felt like he had to. “Can we start over?” He asked, taking all the blame.

“Sure,” Baekhyun nodded— fleeting glance towards Chanyeol, then his eyes went back to his guitar. “You tell us when,” he offered a bit flatly. Chanyeol swallowed and counted whispering from one to four, before starting all over again.

Their sound wasn’t cohesive, even when they went past Kyungsoo’s cue and Baekhyun dived into the chorus. Baekhyun got a few notes wrong and Chanyeol knew he’d been playing off beat every now and then, but all of them seemed too frustrated to stop at that point.

Kyunsgoo breathed out slowly in defeat by the time they finished. “This is bad,” he shared, scrunching his nose. “Very bad.”

Chanyeol nodded, and he saw with the corner of his eye Baekhyun munching on his bottom lip nervously. “It’s like…” Chanyeol started, his gaze unknowingly lingering on Baekhyun’s fingers on the fret. “We’re not matching…? Our sounds are all over the place,” he commented frustratedly. He felt partially responsible for that too, both as the leader, and both as someone who’d just told his bandmates their vocalist might leave the group.

“There’s not much we can do about that, I think” Baekhyun murmured tickling the strings of his guitar along the rhythm of the song they’d just stopped rehearsing. “Let’s just keep going, unless we want to tell Bang PD we’re not playing.” Baekhyun stopped for a general scan of everyone’s face. “And we don’t want to do that.”

Baekhyun’s gaze stayed on Chanyeol for a moment and the guitarist expected to see him angry or annoyed, judging from what he’d just said. However Baekhyun just looked very dejected and guilty. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

That’s when it hit Chanyeol that Baekhyun really wasn’t happy about how things were going. Had he ever felt happy about what he was doing with his life, constantly living for the wishes of someone else? It should’ve made Chanyeol sad, yet it just made him angry all over again, just how it had happened in that alleyway a couple of days earlier.

“It’s too late to give up now,” Chanyeol said, trying desperately not to sound too gloomy. Instead, he put the bravest tone he could despite himself feeling very insecure about this performance. “Let’s try with the covers, as long as those are better than the original track it should be fine. That one... no one knows it, so I guess if we get it a bit wrong or it doesn’t sound perfect, we could just pretend it didn’t happen. Mh?” Chanyeol said. Despite being the perfectionist he was, he was trying to compromise.

“I suggest we spend the night here,” Kyungsoo prompted from behind his drum kit. “What do you say? And we have a couch for occasional naps.”

Baekhyun frowned, as if suddenly caught by some other thought, then he nodded meekly. “Ok,” he said, followed by Chanyeol’s decisive nodding.

They naturally transitioned into playing the three covers they’d chosen for the live show, and though the music seemed to lack something — unity? harmony? Chanyeol wasn’t sure how to call it— they were at least smoother than how they sounded in their original track. ‘Of Cold and Dark Days’ was a mess. Chanyeol got it very wrong every single time they tried to perform it, and it was partially because he knew what the song was about. He refused that song subconsciously, resented the person the song had been written for.

So stupid to resent someone who’s dead already. And yet…

Every single time they tried the same song again and Baekhyun started the chorus, Chanyeol felt a weird sensation of acid in his mouth. He recalled Jongdeok pressuring Baekhyun, he recalled Baekhyun faltering as soon as he’d heard the words Junki Hyung.

Chanyeol reversed all that anger he had in his sound, which resulted in him almost playing a song of his own. Kyungsoo and Sehun were managing, somehow sounding more stable than the two guitars, and yet just as troubled as they were. Baekhyun… Baekhyun wasn’t really there. He was playing and singing with his head clearly somewhere else, his tone worried rather than passionate.

They stopped rehearsing at 4 am, more because their fingers and muscles where all contracted from playing for hours than because they were tired. What they felt, mainly, was that sensation of uselessness one has when they try so hard and nothing works as it should.

“I have a bad feeling about this,” Chanyeol had whispered to Kyungsoo when they were smoking their last cigarette before sleeping, at 5am. Baekhyun and Sehun had taken the couch and Chanyeol and Kyungsoo had ended up in the drummer’s cramped car— it smelled of smoke and car deodorizer.

“I know, I have this feeling too,” Kyungsoo murmured back. The drummer’s cigarette burned red in the dim light of the car. “But it’ll all be ok, Yeol.” Kyungsoo sounded like he was trying to convince himself more than Chanyeol.

“Yeah, it’ll be ok,” Chanyeol agreed, thinking of Baekhyun on the couch downstairs.

 

.

 

The _Rolling Stone_ in Sinchon was as lively as ever the next day when Ginkgo Dawn arrived in Kyungsoo’s car, their instruments in the trunk and the flyers and the cassettes they were supposed to try to sell tonight in the backseat between Baekhyun and Sehun.

The venue was buzzing with people coming in and out with cables, instruments and stuff Chanyeol had no idea what it was and wasn’t sure he wanted to find out. The workers were still helping the band, the Cryin Nut, to prepare for the stage: plugging in all their instruments for sound checks and, first of all, setting up the drum kit towards the back of the stage.

Kyungsoo had been asked to play that when Bang PD had called in the morning to check up on them and the drummer had sounded nervous while replying— playing someone else’s drum was always troublesome for Kyungsoo; _just terrified of breaking something_ he’d confessed to Chanyeol once a long time before.

Kyungsoo stopped his Sonata so the others could unload the car and he could find a parking spot close enough for them to be able to drop the instruments back in easily, once the show was over.

“Don’t forget the flyers,” Kyungsoo reminded them from the driver’s seat while Baekhyun and Sehun took care of Baekhyun’s guitar and the bass. Chanyeol nodded, taking both boxes and then rubbing Kyungsoo’s bald head for good luck.

The drummer grunted in fake annoyance. “What the fuck are you doing, get going ParkChan,” Kyungsoo urged pulling gas even though the car didn’t move an inch.

“We’ll wait for you here,” Chanyeol said back, then turned around to slam the car door closed and move a couple steps towards the other two. “My guitar?” He asked.

Baekhyun helped him sling it on while Chanyeol balanced the two boxes on his forearms and frowned, looking around. “I wonder if we’re too early…” He murmured, focusing on a couple of people who clearly weren’t workers, smoking outside the venue.

“They said to come two hours before the show, so I guess we should be alright Hyung,” Sehun said, wrapping an arm around Baekhyun’s shoulder and then propping his chin on the singer’s head. Baekhyun chuckled, trying to push Sehun aside without much success.

“Aren’t you hot with that jacket, Hun-ah?” Chanyeol asked, looking at the black leather jacket Sehun was wearing in the middle of the summer. He dragged his gaze towards Baekhyun and left it there, finding the singer just as on edge as he was a few days earlier. It was difficult to point it out exactly, because Baekhyun was a good actor, but there was definitely a weird patina to his figure.

Chanyeol wondered silently if Baekhyun was there because he wanted it, or because he felt like he owed them. He swallowed.

Sehun shrugged in response, anyway, his eyes leaving Chanyeol to focus on something behind him and wave. “Hyung!” He called, and Chanyeol noticed Kyungsoo approaching them on a light jog in his jeans and military green t-shirt. He stopped right in front of them.

“Let’s go in, shall we?”

The inside of Rolling Stone was much larger and brighter than Paradise Dust was. There was much more space for the performers but also a lot more space for the public to enjoy the performance without feeling like fainting for the lack of air.

“Ginkgo Dawn ?” Someone asked, then proceeded to pat Chanyeol on the back when they nodded, then bowed, realizing they were talking to the owner of the venue. The man was maybe in his forties, with hair kept in a ponytail and a hint of beard Chanyeol found quite out of place on his face.

“Bang PD told me you would bring stuff for us to sell in our promotion stand,” he started, throwing a glance to the two boxes Chanyeol was still holding on his own. It was Kyungsoo who intervened, opening one of the boxes so that the man could properly take a peek.

“Just the remaining flyers we couldn’t manage to give away and some cassettes, yes,” Kyungsoo explained, Sehun and Baekhyun behind him.

The man took both the boxes from Chanyeol without flinching for the weight. “We’ll take care of that. They’re putting up the stand for the Crying Nut now, see?” He waved to some guy who was spreading a black cloth on a table, on one side of the venue. “Your stuff will be there. I can’t assure you we will sell much, though.”

“Yes,” Chanyeol replied as he massaged the muscles of his shoulders, aching a little from carrying the two boxes. “As long as we can try, sir.”

“The band is over there, see?” The man replied, pointing at the stage. There they were, around the same age as Ginkgo Dawn, with a much more punk rock vibe to them. Chanyeol looked at them and almost died when one of the members of the band -the vocalist, to be precise- stopped whatever he was doing with the cable of his guitar to bow to Chanyeol and the others.

Crying Nut were still underground at the time, but their popularity was already growing exponentially, to the point where Chanyeol felt almost intimidated; these were the kind of guys who filled up venues every weekend and had their personal groupies following them around. They even had a van, while Ginkgo Dawn were stuck with Kyungsoo’s white Sonata.

He felt excited and at the same time terrified a the idea of playing with someone with such a stable support, who was considered a great band already without debuting yet.

There was also the fact that Ginkgo Dawn weren’t in their best shape, adding to the original stress.

_It’s gonna be fine_ , he forced himself to think.

Baekhyun walked up next to him and the guitarist had to resist the instinct to grab the singer’s hand for support. He would’ve done that, a week earlier, and yet there was something stopping him now. Something had definitely snapped amongst those kisses and Chanyeol pressing Baekhyun on the mattress, and it had added issues to the already unsolved ones they had. They hadn’t exchanged more than a couple of words since then, and the guitarist felt stuck in a limbo— an eternal impasse while the world kept going. He didn’t know where he stood with Baekhyun anymore.

“Once they’re done it’s your turn for soundcheck, so go get ready, mh?” The man said, guiding them to the backstage with a lot of gestures and a lot more words than what Chanyeol was able to catch.

The man left them backstage and hurried to the front again— Chanyeol and Sehun breathed out, though that didn’t help calm down Chanyeol’s nerves. “I think I’m gonna die,” Chanyeol confided when Sehun got close enough to him while peeling off his leather jacket.

“Relax hyung. We’re all shaking here, aren’t we? Even Kyungsoo hyung was talking about a toilet stop earlier, so…” He slapped Chanyeol’s back in camaraderie, then took out his bass, the cord connected to it.

Baekhyun was giving them his back, taking his Gibson out of the case quietly. His usual light was a little faint compared to the angry, cherry red of his guitar, Chanyeol noted while looking at him.

“Look whatever happens on that stage,” Chanyeol blurted out, trying to get everyone’s attention. They turned around, stopping to look at Chanyeol expectedly. “We’ll probably suck, because we...suck, in general. So let’s not get too worried, okay?”

He sported an awkward grin as he showed them thumbs up. It made Kyungsoo chuckle shaking his head as he walked past Chanyeol patting his butt. “Shut up, let’s just go and do this damn soundcheck. Their drummer scares me.”

 

Kyungsoo had already started trying the drumkit when Chanyeol and the others finally came up on the stage with their instruments. One guy from Crying Nut helped Baekhyun plug in his Gibson, while some other old guy with a hat was helping Chanyeol and Sehun figure out where to plug in their instruments instead. Rolling Stone was a much bigger, much more organized venue compared to Paradise Dust, which implied that none of them had any idea about how to move in this new place as the people playing, and not the audience.

They didn’t have to play something in particular for the soundcheck, just make sure the sounds were all even, the guitars in tune and especially that Kyungsoo didn’t drown everyone else when he played.

They played whatever came to their mind singularly, while someone else raised or lowered the volume of their instruments so that there weren’t excesses on any side. The man in the hat who had helped Sehun and Chanyeol was the sound technician apparently, and he gave them signs whenever he wanted one of them to stop, or the other to overlap.

The guy gestured for Baekhyun, Chanyeol and Kyungsoo to play together, then to the two guitarist to try and sing something.

Baekhyun cleared his voice, going up to the microphone while he and Chanyeol kept strumming to some wild song they were making up on the spot. The vocalist frowned in thought, then he started singing the beginning of some Skid Row song Chanyeol only vaguely remembered. He followed him, and the man gestured for something else to Kyungsoo, then pushed up the volume of both Baekhyun’s and Chanyeol’s mic.

“Try to get loud...like, a part of a song where you all go nuts or something!” The man shouted, and Baekhyun and Chanyeol exchanged an awkward glance. It was Chanyeol who transitioned into the chorus of that same Skid Row song, and Kyungsoo followed.

Baekhyun didn’t remember the lyrics, so he cleared his voice into the microphone a couple more times, embarrassed, looking down. Chanyeol kept strumming and Kyungsoo launched himself in a deep, rumbling rhythm with his bass drum. The man finally signaled for Sehun to join the noise they were making — it was definitely too messy to be called a song— and that’s when Chanyeol’s heart skipped a beat.

A distorted _ting_ lost itself in the multitude of sounds they were making, but Chanyeol noticed and so did the man in the hat.

“Did you snap a string, boy?” He asked, as Chanyeol dreadfully looked down to confirm that he had indeed snapped a string, as if things weren’t a mess already.

“Yes, I...I’ll fix it,” he stuttered, bowing several times apologetically as his heart started beating furiously. He looked around, meeting Sehun’s gaze in panic. “I don’t have the strings,” he whisper screamed.

  
Sehun’s eyes went wide, and he turned around to look at Baekhyun in panic. Baekhyun shook his head, but he was already unslinging his guitar and jumping off the stage without looking back.

Chanyeol too hurried to the backstage in a frenzy , being absolutely sure he had no spare string with him and yet opening his guitar case frantically and digging into the pocket in the front— nothing. The few people from the staff standing backstage eyed him with a mix of confusion and worry.

Chanyeol groaned in frustration, letting himself fall his butt as he caught his head between his hands. This couldn’t be happening. It was a sign that they had to run, that maybe it was better if they didn’t perform at all. He couldn’t believe he’d been so stupid to accept this damn live show. He was mad, and he couldn’t even clearly pinpoint what he was mad at or what he was mad for.

_Everything, he was mad for everything_.

All he could hear was his breath for what he thought was a minute. He hoped to wake up, and find out he’d just dreamt the last three weeks. He just wanted to go back to that last night when they’d all met, ate meat and talked about how lame the name The Housewives was.

_Yeol_ , he heard Baekhyun say, much closer than he’d expected. He tentatively lifted his head to see the singer in front of him with a brand new set of strings for him to use and his own Strat. “The guys from the other group are much more prepared than we are. They asked if we want beer.”

Chanyeol took the strings from Baekhyun’s hand with a grunt that should’ve sounded like a thanks. _He couldn’t talk to him. He didn’t want to talk to him._ He took his guitar, propped it on his lap and loosened the keys before cutting the whole set of the old strings, and unwinding them from the pegs.

“Yeol, look…” Baekhyun tried, still crouching in front of Chanyeol. The guitarist cut him off before he could even start a real conversation.

“Not now,” he clipped with a frown, stopping his motions.

Baekhyun left without a word after a few seconds in which Chanyeol just knew the singer had been looking at him.

 

.

 

The crowd was silent as Ginkgo Dawn climbed up the stage, and that was the detail Chanyeol would remember the most. It was scary. It made him realize that it was just them on that stage, and that today the audience wasn’t there for them, after all.

Maybe it was this thought that jinxed the rest, Chanyeol wasn’t sure.

The lights went on suddenly, and Chanyeol realized that was his cue to start playing, so he did. He dived into ‘Of Cold Dark Days’ trying to get in the mood of the song, as his fingers glided on the frets when he changed note. He tried, closing his eyes and letting his mind tune out everything that wasn’t the song. It wouldn’t work.

People were looking at them, and Chanyeol could almost see them whisper, asking who the hell they were. The sadness of opening acts. Nobody really cares about the band performing, they’re all there swaying, trying to get into the mood for the next, big performance. Chanyeol breathed in, concentrating on the pressure of his fingers on the tabs.

Baekhyun started playing, the voice of his guitar intertwining with Chanyeol’s as the singer stepped closer to the microphone, ready to sing the first verse. _Don’t leave me, I will stay under this cursed eclipse_ The audience cheered, or at least a few of them did, and Chanyeol’s gaze darted up to the pitch black sea in front of him.

He and Baekhyun still sounded off, both clearly distracted. Chanyeol wasn’t sure of what emotion he should pour in the song, since all he felt for it was contempt; Baekhyun was all over the place, with his fingers all wrong and his voice flat, lacking any kind of emotion. At least Kyungsoo nailed his entrance along with Sehun, and that helped create some sort of cohesiveness as they transitioned into the chorus.

Baekhyun kept singing, though the audience wasn’t cheering like last time and he didn’t sound as passionate about his lyrics. That longing, that sensation of mourning and finality, and yet nostalgia that Chanyeol had felt with the intensity of a tsunami in their last live show was completely gone. Baekhyun wasn’t singing for anyone there, he was empty.

The audience reacted to that, they were the mirror of what they were playing, after all. Their cheers were mostly confused as the melody changed and the drum exploded, alternating its rhythm with the notes of chanyeol’s guitar.

Chanyeol bit hard on his bottom lip as his solo part arrived and he couldn’t let himself go. He couldn’t because the performance wasn’t giving him the same euphoria, the same sensation of lava flowing in his veins. The audience was there, watching. It was eerie.

Chanyeol couldn’t see their faces, all they could do was keep playing, and glance at Baekhyun when the vocalist sneaked into the last part of the song smoothly enough for it to sound natural, but very not heartfelt.

The melody slowed down, focusing only on the two guitars harmonizing and Kyungsoo’s cymbals. No voice, just the guitars going over the same musical pattern of the first verse and blending it until it didn’t sound like the original melody anymore, until it was an odd shaped hybrid.

Chanyeol finished first, Baekhyun followed. The public was suspended in quiet for the longest time, before someone from the very back started clapping, and so a few more people did.

Baekhyun looked like he was hanging from a lifeline when he grabbed the microphone and introduced them all, panting. “We’re Ginkgo Dawn, I hope you enjoy the rest of our performance.”

A few, sporadic claps and cheers followed and Chanyeol felt his heart fall in a weird mix of disappointment and sour realization, in front of such a cold reception. The guitarist looked down at his fingers— he didn’t have the courage to meet the others’ eyes.

  


They all agreed the performance was a complete flop as they loaded Kyungsoo’s car with the instruments and the boxes with the cassettes that couldn’t be sold— they could sell two, maybe, and Kyungsoo had ended up giving one to the leader of Crying Nut, since he’d asked while trying to comfort them. _It’s always like this for the first opening act_ he’d said, though Chanyeol was almost sure that was just the guy trying to be polite.

They’d quite frankly sucked: their sound had been mediocre and they’d played the covers quite flatly, especially after noticing the audience wasn’t interested in them at all. Even Kyungsoo was vocal about it once they were all in his Sonata, trying to keep busy looking out the window— anything not to talk about what had just happened.

“It was the worst performance we’ve ever had, guys,” he shared while taking a turn to get on the main road, leaving Mapo-gu. Sehun was the only one who hummed, in the front seat, without really reacting. The other two- Chanyeol included- stayed quiet.

Baekhyun fell asleep on the way back once they’d entered Jongno-gu, his head dangerously dropping low every time Kyungsoo took a bump on the road. Chanyeol eventually reached out and pulled the singer closer, until his head was on his shoulder and he could feel the tickling of Baekhyun’s hair on his cheek— Baekhyun whined in his sleep, but Kyungsoo’s radio in the car was loud enough to cover the noises.

“We’ll do better next time,” Sehun said after a while.

_I wish_ , the guitarist thought bitterly, looking down the bridge of Baekhyun’s nose. Chanyeol wrapped an arm around the singer’s shoulders — his heart rumbling frantically inside his chest like the wildest of songs. They still had so much to solve, so much left unsaid but this night had been the shittiest Chanyeol had had in a while so he pulled Baekhyun close and breathed in.

 

.

  


Chanyeol had drank a couple of bottles of soju on his own the night after the live show, and that wouldn’t have given him a headache, usually, but he must’ve been tired because he woke up sad and groggy, with flashes of the show, of the silent audience in front of him, playing inside his head in loop. There were images of Baekhyun in his head every now and then. They just popped up and gave him a weird sensation of heartache as he stared at the bowl of rice he’d prepared for himself and was gloomily pretending to eat.

He’d given in the night before, in the car. He’d been the one pushing Baekhyun away, being too on edge and too mad at him to want to talk to him at least up until the performance flopped. After that, though, his being on edge had evaporated like a cloud and left him just sad to the point he’d needed Baekhyun so bad he’d just given in.

Baekhyun waking up and finding himself leaning against Chanyeol had probably made things ever more awkward, but Chanyeol was too tired to run, too tired of all the complications of the past, of the present— he was too tired to care.

Baekhyun appeared in the living room scratching his butt, with his glasses a bit lopsided and his hair all up on one side and completely flat on the other. He sat next to Chanyeol staring at the void for a couple of seconds, then flopped on the table with his head sideways on the wooden surface. He had his eyes closed as he groaned.

“Did you drink?” Chanyeol muttered, reaching out to fluff up the hair at the base of Baekhyun’s neck. He clearly felt Baekhyun jolt under his touch, then relaxing gradually as Chanyeol’s hand didn’t move.

“No,” Baekhyun murmured belatedly, his eyes flickering open to meet Chanyeol’s.

“Ehy, you know…” Chanyeol started, his gaze focused on Baekhyun as his hand glided down his neck and stopped on the boy’s nape. “Do you think we can talk?” He asked, sounding more dejected than he’d intended to.

He looked away as he suddenly felt too self-conscious— naked, under Baekhyun’s eyes. “Would you go have a walk on the riverside?”

Baekhyun took a while to reply, to the point where Chanyeol had taken it as a no and was ready to stand up and leave. “Alright, guitar boy,” he replied with some mirth in his tone as he sat up, eyeing Chanyeol sideways. Chanyeol could see he was trying hard to sound funny and it was so _Baekhyun_ that it made Chanyeol’s heart clench for a moment.

“Why, aren’t you a guitar boy as well?” Chanyeol asked as Baekhyun took a scoop of his rice and munched on it while levering on the sofa to stand up.

“I never said it was only for me to use as a nickname,” Baekhyun shrugged, walking away.

Small talk was fine, small talk wasn’t dangerous but it still left the holes in their relationship exactly where they were. Chanyeol wanted to talk about what was making him so nervous, he wanted to talk about Baekhyun’s future, about the band— about the two of them. Baekhyun touched him and clearly wanted to be touched back. He looked at Chanyeol with eyes the guitarist couldn’t read through, and yet Chanyeol had no idea what he was for Baekhyun, where he stood.

The bathroom door clicked after Baekhyun sneaked into it and all Chanyeol could hear after that was the sound of the water running.

 

The canal was almost deserted at lunch time as he and Baekhyun walked on the sunny side of it, shielding their faces with their forearms and walking close enough for their hands to graze every now and then. Chanyeol could see the top of Baekhyun’s head where the roots of his black hair were visible, contrasting with the almost white ends of it— he thought it was cute, despite it looking a bit tacky Baekhyun managed to make it seem alright.

“What?” Baekhyun asked with a cheeky smile, noticing how Chanyeol’s eyes had been focused on him for way too long to be a coincidence.

Chanyeol almost blurted out the first thing that came to mind, a comment about Baekhyun’s hair or the fact that his nape was tanned already, but he kept himself from doing so. “Hyun-ah, I…” Chanyeol sighed, his gaze going to the almost still water of the river. “I’m sorry.”

It wasn’t exactly what he wanted to start with, but he didn’t try to correct himself or add anything else. Baekhyun raised an eyebrow in confusion, then chuckled to himself making a wheezing, guttural sound at the end. “What are you even apologizing for?”

_For yelling at you because you’re worried about your future; for yelling at you because you still love your ex lover; for pushing you away-_ Chanyeol huffed, his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants. “I guess you were right, about the performance, we weren’t ready,” the guitarist said, despite the wave of thoughts raging inside his head.

“Ah,” Baekhyun hung his head low, then proceeded to remove his glasses to clean them up. “Yeah, but I guess I sort of was to blame for that anyway.” Chanyeol grabbed his elbow as Baekhyun cleaned his glasses and kept walking. Baekhyun snorted at that. “I only see blurred, I’m not blind ParkChan,” he scolded.

“I know,” Chanyeol replied with a shrug. “Just making sure. And yeah, I didn’t know what to tell the others about you acting weird, after I found out.” He paused for a moment, while Baekhyun put his glasses on again. “I’m sorry I followed you, as I said I was just worried about you...I’m still...worried about you,” Chanyeol’s voice blended into a murmur.

“I...figured,” Baekhyun replied after a few moments of silence. “Did you tell them about Jongdeok hyung and…?”

Chanyeol shook his head. He’d wanted to. He’d wanted to spill all of Baekhyun’s secret, desperately wished to find a solution for it. “It wasn’t my story to tell, Baekhyun-ah. What do you think I am?”

“I don’t know.” Baekhyun hid his smile behind his forearm as he lowered it a little and squinted at the sun. “But yesterday was…” He sighed, turning his head enough to meet Chanyeol’s eyes.

“Yesterday sucked,” Chanyeol commented decidedly. “I...Don’t know if it’s because it was our first opening, or because we were playing like shit. I just don’t want it to happen again, you know what I mean?”

“I don’t want it to happen either, Yeol.”

Baekhyun sounded incredibly calm, so different from how nervous and anxious he’d sounded until a couple of days earlier. It was weird, but Chanyeol had been angry for days as well, and now all he felt was a bit of bitterness and disappointment for their performance, along with the fear of facing their producers in the following days knowing how much mediocre they’d been.

“That guy’s hat, though…” Baekhyun said all of a sudden, just when Chanyeol was going to ask about Jongdeok. He smiled, though, going along with Baekhyun’s apparently non related talk.

“The guy from Crying Nut?”

“Yes, him. That hat. It’s summer, why wear a droopy hat like that? You stank enough, and you didn’t wear a hat,” Baekhyun shared with a grimace.

“I didn’t stink,” Chanyeol retorted, pushing Baekhyun towards the river and at the same time holding him from his arm to make sure he didn’t _actually_ fall. Baekhyun laughed a loud, stupid laugh like Chanyeol hadn’t heard it in ages. It made him squirm from how happy it was, and he suddenly felt warm all over, as Baekhyun pushed him back.

He was lovely, Baekhyun was lovely as he laughed like that in the sun with his lopsided glasses and big t-shirt. Chanyeol was overwhelmed by how in love he was with him, with every stupid little detail about him. He was so in love and so terrified of the idea of Baekhyun leaving him that all he wanted was to catch him and never let go.

“You stank last time too, at our live show at Paradise Dust. And I remember, I was the one kissing you, have you forgotten about that?” Baekhyun teased, then chuckled again as Chanyeol wrapped an arm around his waist trying to tickle him.

The singer recoiled and folded in half, laughing like an idiot and burying his face into Chanyeol’s shoulder while at the same time trying to pry the guy’s hands off him. Chanyeol nuzzled into Baekhyun’s hair contentedly and scolded himself for having stayed away from him for so long.

“I love you.” He said it without even thinking about it, basking in the heat of the sun and the softness of Baekhyun so close to him. He would’ve yelled it but instead it was just a murmur, like a secret only for Baekhyun to know.

He said it and expected to regret it. He expected the fear to arrive, but it didn’t until he opened his eyes and Baekhyun moved a couple of steps away from him with an expression Chanyeol had never seen on the vocalist’s face.

It was like Baekhyun was in pain. He was smiling, but it was the saddest of smiles, like he was sorry for what Chanyeol had just said. He shook his head, tilting it to the side just slightly. "Yeol don't...please don't do this to me now..."

Chanyeol furrowed his brows together, his voice trapped like a knot in his throat.

“Yeol, I’m sorry I… I think I need to leave the band.”

“What? Is this what you were trying to tell me, back since the motel?” Chanyeol said at a loss of words. It was hard to breathe. It was hard to look at Baekhyun’s face, painful. He would’ve yelled at him any other moment, but this wasn’t it. He didn’t know what to say, what to think.

_I’ll sing with you, Park Chanyeol_ , Baekhyun had said. He’d promised. It had been only because Chanyeol had asked, on a hand. But the guitarist was convinced it wasn’t. It couldn’t.

Baekhyun wanted to sing and this was all some kind of horrible joke, from Jongdeok to all that came after.

“Yes,” the vocalist said, looking anywhere but Chanyeol. “I...That’s what I wanted to say. I’m so sorry, I-” Baekhyun sounded so down, deflated almost. “It won’t work, I’m sorry.”

The sound of Chanyeol’s heart cracking was the same of a string snapping— sudden, hollow and just as alarming.


	16. Track 15

**Track 15**

 

Sitting in Bang PD’s studio knowing that Baekhyun had left the band was a whole new type of terror. Chanyeol really didn’t want to be the one bringing the bad news, especially knowing how they’d flopped their first show and how the producer most likely knew already. Chanyeol hadn’t told the others yet, he hadn’t had enough time, and he didn’t know what he dreaded the most, if telling the producer who’d helped Ginkgo Dawn or telling his bandmates.

The studio was as hot as ever and Bang PD looked even more intimidating, knowing there was something to be scared for. His twin was nowhere to be seen that day, and that was half a relief for Chanyeol at least. Daehyun had just left the room after giving them cold tea and letting Tigger in.

“How have you guys been?” Yongguk started. He didn’t sound angry, but his apparent calm put Chanyeol even more on edge than he was already.

“So so,” Sehun replied from where he was crouching on the ground to pet Tigger. The poodle was belly up on the floor as Sehun scratched his belly. “The last two days were sort of…” _shitty_ , Chanyeol was pretty sure the bassist was going to say.

Bang PD just hummed in understanding, but he didn’t add anything else for a while, staring at something on his desk in all concentration. “About your performance, two days ago…” he started, eventually, and Chanyeol felt something drop in his stomach— a huge stone, or something close enough. “I talked to my friend and he wasn’t too impressed.”

Ginkgo Dawn members all looked down, unsure about what to say or where to start trying to justify themselves. Chanyeol had been a wreck for the past twenty four hours, after Baekhyun had left him like an idiot by the riverside. Chanyeol had been too taken aback, as if someone had slapped him in the face, to react or follow him. He wasn’t even mad at Baekhyun, at that point, he was just miserable. His boyfriend had dumped him -or so he’d assumed- and left their band. All of this after Chanyeol had told him he loved him.

Chanyeol had been a wreck for the past twenty four hours for several reasons, however he was the leader of Ginkgo Dawn and he was done having Kyungsoo do all of the talking— especially in this case. “We’ve been having problems among us, lately. Our sound wasn’t nice to begin with and...We don’t have an excuse for how we played, actually,” Chanyeol explained, his head low.

Bang PD focused on Chanyeol for another long moment of silence before starting to talk again in a low, calm tone. “So what are you going to do about it? It was a great opportunity, but it went that way. What’s the plan now?”

For some reason the fact that Bang PD wasn’t yelling at them and calling them failures was even scarier than if he’d done so. Chanyeol frowned, and turned his head to meet Kyungsoo’s eyes. The drummer looked just as worried as the guitarist was, his lips pulled to the side in a grimace.

“Well...” Chanyeol staggered, then sighed. He didn’t know what he was doing there. Baekhyun had left, and they had no idea what to do as Ginkgo Dawn without him. The Housewives hadn’t had any success after Jiho had left, mostly because the three of them couldn’t produce that spark that challenged them to be better, on their own. “Until now we’ve always relayed on live shows at Paradise Dust, or in the venues around our university. But…” His shoulders drooped a little. “I don’t know exactly.”

Kyungsoo nodded following him, his gaze on Sehun as the bassist kept playing with tigger.

“So you have no idea. I thought you guys wanted to be real musicians, how is it possible that you don’t have a plan B for what happened? Did your future as a group relay on that performance that much?” Yongguk asked, his voice heightened just a little more in disbelief than actual anger.

Chanyeol stayed quiet and so did the others. That wasn’t the point, Chanyeol thought as his palm squeezed his knees and he bit on the inside of his lower lip. The point was that Baekhyun wasn’t there anymore, and that hadn’t been contemplated in their original plans. Chanyeol had been dreading the fact that the vocalist could leave, but it actually happening had been like having the ground taken away from under one’s feet.

“It’s not just that...It’s…” Chanyeol stammered, looking anywhere in the room trying to find a good wording for what he was going to say.

“It’s just that Baekhyun Hyung has left the band,” Sehun blurted out, taking Chanyeol by surprise. His eyes darted to Kyungsoo. The drummer was sporting an apologetic look, but he didn’t look shook. Neither did Yongguk, who just exhaled, and took three cups of ramen from the cabinet under his desk.

Chanyeol felt Kyungsoo’s hand stroking his back and when he looked at the drummer, the guy was smiling, sad. “Our vocalist has been having personal issues lately and in the end he decided to leave the band yesterday,” the drummer explained.

“I heard from him this morning,” Bang PD shared. “He told me he was leaving for personal circumstances. Which leaves you guys without a vocalist and...quite frankly without the person who was keeping you guys together, if I may say so.”

Chanyeol felt a huge weight lifted off his shoulders at the realization that Baekhyun had been fair enough not to leave Chanyeol with the responsibility of telling everyone else, and yet knowing he had called everyone to tell them made Chanyeol feel a strange sense of melancholy: now that everyone knew it was real. Baekhyun had really left them.

 _He’d left him_.

Chanyeol nodded belatedly at Yongguk’s words. He really felt as if there was some fire missing inside of him, now that Baekhyun wasn’t there. He was empty.

“Sir we...I’ll be honest with you, we really don’t know what to do at the moment,” Chanyeol shared with a sigh and the most sincere tone he could manage.

“Well, that’s up to you as Ginkgo Dawn. Are you still a group even if your vocalist is gone?” Yongguk asked frankly, balancing the ramen cups on his thighs. “And are you still willing to do this, even knowing people might not be interested in you as a band as easily as you’d thought?”

Chanyeol was ready to nod, because that was exactly what his usual self would’ve done, but he hesitated and so did Kyungsoo and Sehun. They didn’t have an answer, so Sehun just stood up to pick the three ramen cups and he left the room to get hot water.

“We know we...I mean sir, we screwed up. And we know, and we might not even have a vocalist at this point, but what do _you_ suggest we do? We worked hard until now, and… at some point I guess we got deranged because of how things are in life,” Chanyeol exhaled, as if he was breathless after what he just said. “And I’m so very miserable and disappointed right now but I still want to be a musician, Yongguk, sir.”

Yongguk raised an eyebrow both in amusement and surprise. He shook his head slightly, which Chanyeol took as a very negative sign, and so must’ve done Kyungsoo as well because he carded a hand through his very short hair and huffed.

“The gigs don’t pay,” the drummer said all of a sudden. “The gigs don’t pay and we’re students, so the most we get is discounts and sometimes less than 100 thousand won, which we have to divide among us anyway. And I guess we could still play for other bands, if they need a hand, but it’s tough,” he continued. “However that’s how we became friends and as long as we can do it…Park Chanyeol is right. Is there still hope?”

Yongguk listened to every single word, then his attention went to the door where Sehun was standing, balancing the three ramen cups— two in his hands and one pressed against his chest. Only after everyone had taken their own cup and tigger was still trying to get cuddles from Sehun, barking at him every now and then, the producer spoke again.

“No matters how much I want to help you, there’s no gigs for you at the moment. At least amongst the people I know, nobody has a free spot I can offer. You’ll have to find something by yourself.” He sighed. “I got you a pretty tasty chance with the last liveshow, last time,” the producer explained with an air of apology to his voice mixed with the expression of a teacher giving a scolding. “But well, I guess we couldn’t have known how it would go.”

Chanyeol nodded in understanding, meeting Kyungsoo’s gaze with a sad smile. He felt responsible, other than guilty and disappointed. He’d brought Baekhyun to the band, they’d thought they had some hope, they’d fed their dreams and now it was like they’d been crashed, and there was nothing they could do to change it.

“Maybe start working on something else. See if you can get another live show in the places where you’re used to performing and get into the mood again. You never know, maybe working on it can get you more inspired and hyped,” Yongguk suggested sincerely. “I’ll tell you if I have something guys, but I doubt it’ll be any time soon.”

They left gloomier than they were when they’d arrived. Whatever they’d thought they’d been promised, what this dream made of notes and bright lights was, felt further than it’d ever been. They were back to square one.

 

.

 

Baekhyun hadn’t even tried to talk to Chanyeol after that day at the river. He wasn’t explicitly avoiding Chanyeol, but in the few days the guitarist had stayed at the hasuk-jib after the discussion with the vocalist, the two of them had hardly met in the house— if they had, it had been so brief that Chanyeol hadn’t even had the chance to start a conversation. The chances got even slimmer when Mrs Lee called Chanyeol back home to stay for a few days. She’d injured her wrist, and she’d explicitly said _Your sister doesn’t help, move your ass here_. Chanyeol couldn’t have refused.

His house was as messy and full of people as ever, but at least helping around, along with school, had kept Chanyeol distracted from the disappointment of the band and the fact that he still don’t know how things were with Baekhyun.

He could’ve asked, called, but circumstances didn’t seem to work in his favor and with his mom and grandmother using him like their personal slave in the house, taking some time to talk to Baekhyun didn’t seem like a possible option. Plus Baekhyun had left, back at the river. He could’ve added something, especially considering the way he’d replied to Chanyeol’s confession, but instead he’d left without a further explanation. If that wasn’t a big enough hint, Chanyeol didn’t know what was.

So when he found himself with some free time at hand all Chanyeol did was leave the house and crash at the first convenience store he could think of, the one at the corner of the street where he lived.

He was chilling at the table outside the convenience store, basking in the heat while drinking his _shikhye_. The cicadas were loud enough to muffle every other sound in the road except for the Lee Suk song playing inside the store. It sung ‘Snow is falling’— ironically enough, because Chanyeol was sweating his soul out.

He was looking down at the white plastic of the table in front of him, when a familiar silhouette walked by and stopped. Chanyeol looked up and didn’t know how to react when the knot in his stomach pulled a little.

“Hey,” he said.

Jiho waved back with an awkward smile. “Hey, stranger,” he greeted, and gestured towards the convenience store as if trying to explain himself. Chanyeol nodded, a bit unsure about how to react, so he looked down again.

They hadn’t seen each other in months, and Jiho had quite clearly fucked up their friendship in their last encounter. Chanyeol wasn’t sure how to approach him or what to say to him, considering how things were. However he would be lying if he said he didn’t miss him. Jiho was his best friend, all things considered, and sometimes he found himself just wanting to ask for his opinion, talk to him.

Jiho came out of the convenience store holding a bottle of corn tea and some salty snacks. He didn’t ask before sitting in front of Chanyeol and pushing the bag with chips towards him. “Eat, you look like shit,” he said with a smile and his usual expression, the one that made him look like the perfect balance between a thug and a womanizer.

Chanyeol stared at him for, like, three seconds before taking a handful of chips and starting munching on a few at a time. “I feel like shit, if that helps,” Chanyeol retorted with a shrug and a flat, vaguely miffed tone. He wanted Jiho to know he was still mad because he _was mad_. “Are you gonna be an asshole today too or…?” He left the sentence hanging, purposely attacking the other guitarist in a desperate attempt to defend himself.

He didn’t want to open up to Jiho only to be hurt once again. It didn’t matter who Jiho had insulted and what he’d believed. Chanyeol had felt so betrayed for the past months because of what Jiho had said, he’d questioned himself because of the guy’s words and he wasn’t ready to go there all over again.

Jiho raised an eyebrow pushing his lips in something that looks like a kissy face on a grimace. “What happened?” Jiho completely ignored Chanyeol’s last question and took a couple of chips too.

“It’s a long story and considering what happened last time I’m not sure I want to tell _you_ of all people, Woo Jiho.”

“Will you stop being a grumpy douchebag? I’m sorry, alright?” Jiho blurted out, looking elsewhere. “I...went a bit overboard that last time, I...guess I should’ve minded my own business. I’m sorry.”

“A bit overboard?” Chanyeol repeated.

“A lot overboard. I was an asshole. Are you happy now?” Jiho met Chanyeol’s eyes and they stared at each other in silence for the longest time, before Chanyeol bursted out laughing and Jiho did the same. Chanyeol sighed around his laugh, before taking another sip of his _shikhye_ and tilting his head to the side.

“I am a little bit happier now, thank you.”

“I’m glad,” Jiho replied amusedly. “I’ve been sneakily asking Kyungsoo and Sehun about you, just in case you did something stupid and needed the help from _the_ Jiko.”

Chanyeol huffed, looking at the deserted street beside them. “You missed quite a lot. And yeah, Kyungsoo told me about it, but...It’s been one hell of a ride since when we...argued, I guess.”

“I heard you changed the name of the band,” Jiho prompted, taking a few more chips from the bag and a sip of his tea. Chanyeol snorted.

“I wish it was only that,” he commented with a hint of irony in his tone. “We got a vocalist, then he started to act weird because of some strange unspoken promise he had with his dead boyfriend and then he left us. And dumped me.”

“Wait what?”

Chanyeol inhaled, then exhaled. “Told you it was complicated.”

“No you literally blurted everything in one go, idiot. What do you mean unspoken promise with his dead...and wait, he dumped you? _He_?” Jiho was shook. His expression had crumpled up like he was in pain as he realized what Chanyeol’s words had implied. Chanyeol smiled, a bit embarrassed.

“Would you still find it disgusting if I told you Byun Baekhyun is not the only one who likes guys in the neighborhood?” He asked, then lowered his eyes to the can of sikhye he was holding in his hand. Jiho took a bit to answer, after staring in the void.

“No...I mean- wow. That’s a lot to take in one go.”

“Jiho…” Chanyeol said, half in warning half just… _tired_ of all of this. He was tired of losing people for things he had no control over. Jiho shook his head, as if he was trying to find the right words to express what he wanted. In the end he gave up.

“No, dude...like- I don’t know, ok? It’s you. And I mean, I’m pretty sure I’ve seen you pick your nose when you were five and _that_ was a big secret.” He blabbered, got all red in the face. “You are you, which means I don’t give a damn but...dude? Byun Baekhyun? I…” He paused, looking at Chanyeol— the guitarist had no reaction whatsoever, which resulted in Jiho becoming even more worked up. “I just didn’t expect it, I guess?” He deflated after the last sentence, flopping on the chair with a sigh.

Chanyeol hummed, sliding the almost empty can around on the table quietly.

“So...you and Baekhyun? And the band?” Jiho asked tentatively after swallowing a dry lump and looking up to Chanyeol, almost defensively.

“Baekhyun left the band a bit less than two weeks ago, after our glorious flop at the Rolling Stone,” Chanyeol explained, trying to sound calm rather than defeated. “And before that, he sort of fucked up the balance of the band”

Jiho grimaced with a raised eyebrow. “That’s shitty.”

“Not sure if any of that was intentional. He...had personal issues. Still has them. He never wanted to join the band in the first place, I sort of...forced? More like...convinced him? He looked happy for a while…” Chanyeol said, and finally talking about it made him feel a bit lighter. It made it easier to deal with how the events had unraveled.

“And he wasn’t? I...came to your liveshow, that time at Paradise Dust. I know I’d usually say you suck,” he said with a grin. Chanyeol replied with a very non-impressed expression. “You always do, ParkChan, deal with it. But man, that Byun Baekhyun slayed the stage,” Jiho commented, with much more enthusiasm than Chanyeol had expected. He guessed Jiho was trying to redeem himself. “What I’m trying to say is that it might be not true that you forced him. Maybe he wanted to join, and all he wanted was for someone to tell him he should.”

Chanyeol had never thought about it like that, but it made sense. Baekhyun had talked about circumstances keeping him away from music, and those circumstances were his ex lover. He’d wanted to make music all along, and yet nobody’d given him recognition for it. _You wanted him to play with you rather than for you_ , Jongdae had said months before after their liveshow. Baekhyun’s lover had never fully shared his dream of music with Baekhyun. At some point he must’ve dropped it, and Baekhyun with him.

It made Chanyeol mad, to think about teenager Baekhyun wanting to do music so bad and yet… “I don’t know,” he told Jiho belatedly. “But he started acting weird when things got serious and after our show at the Rolling Stone he just left.” Chanyeol paused, squeezing the can in his palm. “Also, just so you know, Kim Jongdeok is an asshole. Keep it noted.”

Jiho raised an eyebrow, then snorted. “What has Jongdeok done this time?” He took a few more chips, bit on the end of one and munched on it.

“Ah, nothing much. He...was sort of the cause of why Baekhyun has left, because he can’t mind his own fucking business. And I think he doesn’t give a shit about music,” Chanyeol ranted, then bit on his bottom lip. “Thanks Jongdeok, I’m so happy I got dumped. I sort of want to kick him in the face, shit.”

Jiho chortled. “He told Baekhyun to leave?”

“Yeah. More or less, yeah.”

“Asshole.”

They stayed in silence for a few moments, then Chanyeol focused on Jiho once more. Their chips had almost gone, Jiho had eaten most of them. “Have you been ok?”

Jiho shrugged. “My life is not that exciting anymore. Remember when you said they’d give me Spam if I kissed their asses often enough, back last December?”

Chanyeol chuckled, nodding. He did. “No...Did they actually give you SPAM?”

“Yeah, for New Year.”

“Man...No…” Chanyeol laughed, half hitting the table, half hitting his leg. “What’s missing now? The beer belly and the bald head?”

Jiho’s eyes went wide, then he shook his head in refusal. “No dude what the hell? Don’t say that. I’m still young and handsome.”

Chanyeol snorted at the _handsome_.

“Anyway,” Jiho started, his eyes on the road. “The band can work just fine as a trio. That Baekhyun guy was an asshole, he can go die. Whatever.”

Chanyeol frowned. “Don’t say that,” he found himself saying without realizing.

“What? You said he left the band right when you guys were starting to do well, that’s an asshole move. And you were dum-”

“Can you shut up?” Chanyeol muttered, scratching his temple as he averted his gaze from Jiho. That’s when he realized he wasn’t mad at Baekhyun and for him to be called an asshole from Jiho, who didn’t know his backstory, was not what Chanyeol had wanted. “He’s not like that,” he added tiredly.

Jiho lowered his head to the side, his expression askance. “So...Do we hate him or not? I don’t understand.”

“I don’t know,” Chanyeol snapped. “I don’t. He had his reasons, I just don’t understand them, I guess. Just don’t say that.”

Jiho raised both hands in defense with a chuckle. “Ok man, don’t get mad at me. I get it.”

Breaking the silence in the road was Yoora’s voice. It echoed in the deserted street all the way from Chanyeol’s house to the convenience store where Jiho and the guitarist were chatting. _Park Chanyeol!_ she was calling.

Chanyeol sighed, taking the can in one hand, tapping it on the table and moving to stand up. “Captain is calling, I have to go,” he said, staying just beside the table and offering his hand for Jiho to take for the classical bro handshake.

“The women in your house are scary,” Jiho commented looking with a good amount of fear towards Chanyeol’s house. He also took Chanyeol’s hand, and the guitarist leaned forward a bit to pat Jiho on the shoulder.

“Are we good then, man?”

Chanyeol nodded. “Yeah, we’re good.” He left Jiho there, started walking towards the end of the road.

“Park Chanyeol-ah!” Jiho called again, and Chanyeol stopped midway and turned around to meet Jiho’s eyes. “You missed me, didn’t you?” Jiho asked with a smug grin.

Chanyeol turned around, offering him the middle finger as he walked away.

  


Yoora yelled Chanyeol’s name again once he walked in, then again as he walked the corridor to the living room. “What?” He shouted with the same tone she’d used, vaguely pissed, vaguely bored. “Why are you shouting all the time I swear…”

“You have a call.”

Chanyeol raised an eyebrow as he rushed towards the cord telephone. “Was it Kyungsoo?” He asked as he flopped on the sofa and took the still connected phone. Yoora looked up from where she was swiping the floor, then shook her head.

“Nah, it was some Bang guy.”

“WHAT? And you left the line connected?” Chanyeol rushed to cover the lower part of the phone -the microphone- as he glared as his sister.

“Yeah, what’s wrong with that?”

“You just made me look like an idiot with the damn producer!” He whispered-shouted folding himself in half. He could hear Bang PD’s voice through the phone saying _Hello?_ and he started sweating cold. He hesitated before pulling the phone closer to his ear.

“Hello? Bang Yongguk, sir?”

The voice on the other side of the line replied with a short chuckle.

_“Your sister is really something, Park Chanyeol.”_

Chanyeol glared in Yoora’s direction once more, just as Chanyeol’s mom started shouting from the bedroom on the other side of the house. “I’m so sorry, sir,” he said. “I was out and...things are a bit complicated in my house at the moment…”

Yongguk just laughed with that low voice of his.

“What are you calling for, sir? If I may ask?” Yoora walked up to the sofa where her brother was sitting with her broom and pressed against him to hear as he talked. He tried to push her away with his free arm, but she hit him on the head and he struggled to muffle a cry of pain.

“You guys must be some lucky bastards, Park Chanyeol,” Yongguk said, momentarily going out of character and leaving Chanyeol confused on the phone.  
  
“Sir?”

_“The leader of Crying Nut called just now. He asked for you to open their liveshow again, in one month or so. He said he felt bad you were a bit unlucky.”_

Chanyeol’s eyes opened up wider than they already were, as he grabbed his sister wrist to keep her from taking the phone. “Excuse me sir they asked of us again?”

_“They want you to play, Park Chanyeol. What do you say?”_

Chanyeol looked at Yoora in shock, then scanned the room frantically and closed his eyes as wave of extreme joy washed over him followed by a hint of disillusionment.

“We’d love to play, sir. But are you sure they want us without Byun Baekhyun playing?” He asked, gesturing to a confused Yoora that he’ll explain later.

 _“They know and still want you guys. It won’t happen again tomorrow that Crying Nut asks of you, Park Chanyeol. I wouldn’t give up on this.”_ Bang PD replied with a sincere tone. _“You can try to get Byun Baekhyun back in the band, or you can just come as a trio. Nirvana works just fine as a trio, Park Chanyeol.”_

Chanyeol laughed in response. It was absurd. Yongguk had just said what Chanyeol had been saying for months after Jiho had left, and yet he didn’t believe it anymore.

“You can tell them we’ll be there, sir.”

_“You don’t need to consult the others?”_

“I’m sure they’ll say yes. They always have,” he reassured.

“ _You’ll be playing at Drug in Hongdae. Just make sure to be decent this time, I won’t give you guys another chance after this,”_ Yongguk clarified, though he sounded more playful than intimidating.

Chanyeol hung up after a few more details about the show were exchanged, and Yoora stayed by his side the whole time. As soon as he put down his phone, she grinned like a smug cat, flicking his ear with a crazy look on her face.

“So are you gonna become famous? Can I brag about my brother to my friends? Eh?” She poked Chanyeol’s cheek and the guitarist tried to smack her hand away, only for her to dive in and pinch his stomach in revenge.

Chanyeol recoiled and hit her on the leg. “Ah stop it Noona!” He shouted, running away from the sofa to the other side of the room, much to Yoora’s disappointment. Chanyeol stood there panting while Yoora sighed, splaying herself on the sofa.

“So that Baekhyun boy has left the band?” She asked all of a sudden, reaching for the remote and turning the tv on.

Chanyeol went rigid, but walked to sit on the sofa next to her. “Yeah, he did.”

“And what have you done to him?”

Chanyeol’s eyes darted towards her and he laughed a bitter, desperate laugh. “It’s a long story, Noona. Maybe some other time.”

Yoora shrugged it off and didn’t insist. Chanyeol breathed in, then out.

One month left before the show.

  


.

  


Chanyeol walked into the basement of The Corner to find Jongdae there, sitting on the sofa he’d taken there because Baekhyun had asked.

“What is he doing here?” Chanyeol asked, clearly annoyed, as he moved big steps inside the basement and tossed his backpack to the floor. He was looking at Jongdae, but it was Kyungsoo who replied, while working on some paper that looked like music sheets.

“He said he was looking for you, so I let him in,” he shrugged. “Sehun said he’s on his way.” The drummer added without lifting his head.

Sehun, Kyungsoo and Chanyeol had started rehearsing for the live show almost immediately after the phone call Chanyeol had received, and a week had flown by already. They didn’t do too bad as a trio— they had gotten used to it when Jiho had left— but it was clear that their mood wasn’t the best. They were making it work, somehow, but both Baekhyun leaving and the last flop at the live show had taken a toll on their confidence too.

“Alright,” Chanyeol muttered, then turned to Jongdae once again folding his arms on his chest. “What are you doing here?” He wasn’t especially mad at Jongdae, per se, but seeing him annoyed Chanyeol to no end, which translated quite clearly in his tone.

Jongdae wasn’t even nearly intimidated. He just stared right back at Chanyeol mirroring the same annoyed expression. “I heard Baekhyun left the band,” he said, going straight to the point.

Chanyeol exhaled, walking towards one of the foldable chairs and pulling his own guitar to his lap. “Yeah, he did,” he said, being careful not to sound as depressed as he was for it.

“Right. What did you do to him?” Jongdae asked, sitting up on the sofa with his back straight and his eyes on Chanyeol.

“What?”

Chanyeol couldn’t believe it. He couldn’t believe it he was being asked that question. He’d been brooding over Baekhyun leaving for the past two weeks, wondering how things would’ve gone, if he’d acted differently. If he hadn’t yelled at him. If he hadn’t pushed Baekhyun away. Would they have solved something? Would Baekhyun have left anyway?

The guitarist snorted bitterly, meeting Kyungsoo’s careful gaze. “Why don’t you ask that to your brother? I’m sure he has a better explanation for that than I do.” Chanyeol sounded mad, he _was_ mad at Jongdeok and his trying to impose whatever thing he thought was _right_ on Baekhyun without even trying to understand what the boy really wanted. It was selfish, hypocrite.

“What does my brother have to do with this?” Jongdae asked, raising his voice a little. It was a minimum change, but enough for Chanyeol to snap. He bolted up holding his guitar from the neck.

“What does your brother have to do with this?!” He repeated, just shouting it way louder than Jongdae had. “He has everything to do with this!”

“Park Chanyeol,” was all Kyungsoo said with a warning tone, as he touched Chanyeol’s shoulder and Chanyeol deflated just as fast as he’d fired up. Jongdae looked genuinely confused, which didn’t help Chanyeol keep his fury against him up and going. Jongdae probably had no idea. He hadn’t had any idea of what his brother was up to from the beginning.

“Look I...really don’t know what’s going on but what I know is that Baekhyun was happy after that performance,” Jongdae shared, raising both hands in defense. “And I hadn’t seen him that happy for years. Now he’s back looking like he’s dragging himself around and I thought something might have happened with you.”

Chanyeol chuckled bitterly again, shaking his head and tiredly falling back on the chair with a huff. “No, Jongdae. Your brother is a douchebag, that’s what’s making Baekhyun unhappy. I might have contributed to the unhappiness partially but...I’m not the main trigger here,” Chanyeol paused. “I wish I was. At least I’d know how to fix it.”

“Can you tell me what happened?” Jongdae asked, his voice dropping a couple of tones down worryingly.

Chanyeol sighed, his eyes meeting Kyungsoo’s. The drummer didn’t know much either, and he owed him an explanation at this point.

“Jongdeok hyung has been trying to convince Baekhyun to drop the band for a while now. I heard him tell Baekhyun he should concentrate on his studies, because music doesn’t pay and-”

“Piece of shit,” Jongdae cut in, his knitted brows creasing deeply in the middle. “But he’s- He works in a damn venue!”

Chanyeol shrugged. He’d had time to process the thing, and still it was unbelievable for him. Jongdeok had supported The Housewives since the start, and yet… “He also said that’s what Junki hyung would want Baekhyun to do. And that seemed to be a pretty convincing reason.”

Chanyeol said it almost ironically, but that crease between Jongdae’s brows seemed to get shallower as the guitarist explained. In the end he hummed, then he sighed. “It’s a bit complicated when it comes to Junki hyung,” he started, sliding his hand on the green, worn out velvet of the sofa. “I don’t think what he ever had with Junki hyung was healthy but when it comes to Junki Hyung Baekhyun just stops thinking.”

Chanyeol felt a squeeze at his heart as he listened to Jongdae’s words and he closed his fingers tight around the frets. Glimpses of Baekhyun flickered in his mind, and he realized he wasn’t even jealous anymore. Junki wasn’t there anymore. Junki wasn’t the problem.

“I don’t think he stopped thinking this time,” Chanyeol responded with a long exhale. He needed to smoke. He missed Baekhyun so bad. “He thought too much. It’s a pretty big lever your brother had on him and he decided to use it.”

Jongdae nodded. Kyungsoo just quietly listened to the two of them talking without saying much. He still had those music sheets splayed on his leg, but Chanyeol was too concentrated on his talk to notice.

“I don’t know what to say.” Jongdae huffed, dejected. “I’d prepared my speech to burn you and turns out I should’ve burned my brother instead.” He paused, looking around the basement and finally stopping on Chanyeol. “You know it’s just that...It makes perfect sense Baekhyun would say yes to my brother, if that’s what he told him.”

Chanyeol nodded a few times. “I know.”

“No, you don’t know. Junki hyung commited suicide because he thought he was the only one left believing in what he believed. Nobody cares about protests anymore, that era is over. But Junki couldn’t accept it, and he just … Baekhyun resented him for so long, then felt guilty because he thought he hadn’t been there for him but Junki hadn’t wanted for Baekhyun to be there after all,” Jongdae explained. “Junki’s friends, the ones who’d fought with him when he was a student during the protests, all of them either died like him or are workers now. He’d complained to my brother a lot before...deciding he wanted to get it over with.”

It was a sad story. “But what does Baekhyun have to do with that?”

“Junki died because he was left alone. I guess...Baekhyun wants to finish what he started, or give it another meaning? I don’t know, I’m not in his head but that’s what I’d do. He left music because Junki said so, I wouldn’t be surprised if he decided he wanted to remember Junki through his actions.”

Chanyeol lowered his eyes and stayed silent for long, until Kyungsoo patted him on the back and stood up to walk towards the window.

“I just want him to be happy. And if he is doing that, then...fine. But he didn’t look happy to me.” Chanyeol sighed, carding one hand through his hair. “He’s willing to sacrifice his happiness for-” he stuttered. “Junki never asked him to do that.”

Jongdae groaned, standing up. “Now I see why it would’ve been easier if you were the problem.”

“Right?” Chanyeol clipped back, sarcastic.

Jongdae walked around in the room like a lost soul in pain, until he kicked something and it caught Chanyeol’s attention because it was a carton box on the floor and it was open. Chanyeol could see the rectangular shape of the cassettes peeking from inside.

“Ya Do Kyungsoo,” Chanyeol called as he crawled towards the box and his heart started beating faster for no apparent reason. “What is this?”

Kyungsoo looked up from where he was standing next to the window with his cigarette lit. “The cassettes we lost last time. That Baekhyun lost.”

“And how did we get them?” Chanyeol crouched to pick one of the cassettes up and Jongdae did the same, walking up next to him.

“Baekhyunie called the bus company, a few drivers and he said they finally found them. He had to go all the way to Suwon to get them though,” Kyungsoo shared as if it was the most normal thing ever.

Jongdae looked surprised as well.  
  
“You met with Baekhyun?” Chanyeol asked, dropping the cassette into the box once again. “How..?”

“I’ve been meeting him quite often these days. I’m helping him with something for school.” Kyungsoo stayed vague as he took a drag of his cigarette and he looked away.

“Can you tell him I want to see him?”

Kyungsoo nodded, then put out his cigarette when they heard the door open and close upstairs and the noise echo down the staircase. He turned around and smiled to the other two boys.

“C’mon, let’s play a little. Kim Jongdae, are you up for some rock music?”

 

.

 

Baekhyun called a few days before the concert, right when Chanyeol had stopped waiting for the phone to ring. He’d sounded very down on the other line, just like the last day Chanyeol had seen him, but the guitarist had restrained himself from asking unwanted questions on the phone. He wanted to see Baekhyun, rather than say the wrong thing and have the phone hung up on him.

They’d agreed to meet at Paradise Dust after Shiah’s early afternoon shift, when she went to clean the venue and Jongdeok wasn’t around. Chanyeol hurried there five minutes or so before the time they’d decided, taking the heavy rain there and ending up half soaked once he stepped through the back door of the club.

He ran a hand through his almost soaked hair as he walked in, taking a mental note of how the door was open and instinctively looking for Shiah behind the bar counter. She wasn’t there, of course. The place seemed completely empty.

“Yeol?”

Baekhyun’s voice startled him, but he turned around to see the singer sitting to a table quite hidden from the entrance, closer to the corner where the lights of the venue shined of a blue hue. He was early.

“Oh.” Was all Chanyeol mustered, walking slowly closer to the other boy, with his hands in the pockets of his soaked jeans. Baekhyun was partially wet too, or at least his fringe and t-shirt were, but his arms and face were dry. “How long have you been here?” Chanyeol asked, taking in the view of Baekhyun’s face after days of just recalling memories of him.

This was the real thing and _God_ if he hadn’t craved to see him.

“An...hour?” Baekhyun replied with a shy smile as he sat up on the chair and stretched his arms forward on the table. The black roots in his hair were still showing, contrasting with the almost white of the rest of his head and with how black his eyebrows were. He looked more tanned than Chanyeol remembered him, and he was wearing a bandaid on his thumb—the one where he had a dot just above his fingernail.

“You waited for an hour?” Chanyeol asked incredulous, both eyebrows raised in surprise as he noticed how Baekhyun had brought his guitar with him. “Why?”

Baekhyun chuckled, tilting his head to the side slightly and looking at him with this endearing look on his face. “Just because,” he said, and Chanyeol realize that he was still pretending to be ok— after all that had happened he was still wearing that damn mask.

“I’ve wanted to talk to you for awhile,” he said, looking elsewhere in the room. Baekhyun was still sitting, looking up at him while Chanyeol had no intention of sitting at all. “I guess I didn’t have the courage to call, after you decided to leave.”

Baekhyun chuckled, dragging his gaze low on the table. “I know that feeling. I didn’t have the courage to call you, before Kyungsoo pointed out you wanted to see me. I have things I want to say...and I’m not sure they’ll come out the way I want them to.”

“Do I go first?” Chanyeol asked, a slight hesitation in his voice remained. He wasn’t sure he wanted to go first. He knew what he wanted to say, he just didn’t know _how_ to say it without them ending up like the last time he’d tried.

When the singer looked up again, he met Chanyeol’s eyes with such determination that the guitarist felt himself automatically swallow dryly.

“You go first, yeah,” Baekhyun chuckled again and this time the nervousness permeating his words was clear as the boy scratched something off the surface of the table.

Chanyeol nodded, then froze in realization— his mouth open in a mute O as his brain went on shut down and all he could see was Baekhyun sitting at the table with this sad, tired air to him and yet looking so alive, shining so bright behind the surface.

The next thing he knew, Chanyeol was circling the table and gesturing Baekhyun to get up.

“Come here,” he urged him, and Baekhyun was clearly confused, his expression morphing into askance as he stood up slowly, almost wary. “Hyun I’m not gonna kill you and I have no idea what I’m doing but please…” Chanyeol offered his hand and Baekhyun took it, the doubt still lingering on his face as Chanyeol left the corner where the table was and strode towards center of the venue.

He halted, then finally closed the distance between them and the stage and climbed on it first, only to help Baekhyun up there immediately after.

“What are we doing?” Baekhyun asked, anxious, as he looked around as if expecting someone to pop out of the darkness just like one of those shows on tv. Chanyeol didn’t say anything, but he made sure Baekhyun was right at the center of the stage before jumping down and stopping right under it, in the pit.

“Ok, perfect. Now, wait there.” He warned, raising both hands as if to capture Baekhyun in a frame and keep him there. “Don’t move, mh? Alright?” He moved three steps backwards and hurried towards the table.

“What the hell Chanyeol?” Baekhyun shouted from somewhere behind him, on the stage.

Chanyeol was _mental_ and this was probably the craziest and stupidest idea he’d ever had in his whole life, but it was worth trying. He couldn’t give up on Baekhyun and regret it for all the time to come.

“Yeol please don’t come back in some ridiculous costume,” Baekhyun pleaded again— his voice sounding closer as Chanyeol took the other boy’s guitar out of his case. Baekhyun was panicking, it was obvious from that underlying shake in his voice— it made Chanyeol’s heart squeeze in his chest as he dropped the guitar case to the floor and hurried back to the stage.

“No costume, see? I...just need to show you,” he assured, and he reached out for Baekhyun to take his Gibson up on stage with him. Baekhyun did, shooting another smug but incredibly nervous glance to the guitarist.

“Are you gonna ask me to strip right here or…?”

Chanyeol groaned, torn between the instinct of kissing Baekhyun senseless without talking any of this out, and actually do what he’d come up with. The first option left him hanging in the same limbo he’d been caught in for the past few weeks. “Go to on the damn red cross over there and let me do the talking.”

Baekhyun smiled back faintly, a bit of the smugness gone as he did what Chanyeol had asked and he stood in the center of the stage, on the red scotch tape cross.

“I’m here, so?”

“Now close your eyes…” Chanyeol said, and Baekhyun did, followed by an annoyed huff and the folding of his arms on his chest.

“Are we done?”

Chanyeol didn’t take his gaze off him as he hurried to the corner where the stereo connected to the pub’s speakers was and frantically fumbled with a few tapes until he found the only one copy of their live show he’d given to Shiah, a few months earlier. He inserted it into the player, then pressed _play_ and turned around.

The track started with a few muffled noises from Kyungsoo’s cymbals and then Baekhyun started singing his first acapella version of ‘Of Cold Dark days’.

Chanyeol strolled back to the stage taking his sweet time as he looked at Baekhyun flinch on the stage at every single change of melody, at the desperation in his voice.

“That’s the first time you sang it,” Chanyeol said, quiet enough not to overthrow the music but loud enough to be heard. Baekhyun turned his head to the side and Chanyeol could see him breathe deeply in as the song reached his climax.

The guitarist pretended to be calm and not affected, but he could feel the hairs lifting on his arms when the part where they harmonized finally arrived and overwhelmed him, left him breathless as if it was the roaring of a whole orchestra.

They wrapped up the ending in the recording and the music stopped eventually accompanied by the just slightly muffled cheers from the audience. Baekhyun didn’t open his eyes yet, and Chanyeol could tell he had something to say right on the tip of his tongue but he was holding himself back.

“Say it, come on I can see you want to say something,” Chanyeol encouraged him— he knew exactly what to expect.

“I don’t get it. We were great and I was a disaster with that guitar, so what?”

Chanyeol exhaled. “You know exactly what I’m trying to say. Did that help you remember how you felt, standing on that stage? The adrenaline running in your blood and the drums beating so loud that you can’t discern it from the beating of your heart? Did you remember all of that?”

Baekhyun didn’t say anything, biting on his lower lip as he flickered his eyes open.

“You were born to be on that stage. It makes you happy. It makes you so so happy that you fucking shine and you don’t realize it.”

Baekhyun’s annoyed expression diluted into something soft that Chanyeol couldn’t interpret, but it was there and it was giving him hope.

“I wouldn’t be here trying to convince you if you had given up on music because you see no future in it, or because you don’t like it. And I wouldn’t be here making you climb up an empty stage like an idiot and made you listen to our song, if you actually looked happy doing what you chose to do.” The guitarist paused, going closer to the stage and resting his hands on it. “Are you happy with what you’re doing now?”

Baekhyun avoided his gaze. Chanyeol could see his lips move before sound actually came from them. “I don’t...know.”

“I know you have a lot going on with your projects and all the cool things you do for school and our country but who are you doing them for, Hyun? Huh? Yourself? Or it’s because you really think that’s what Lee Junki would want?”

Baekhyun startled a little at the mention of the name, but he sighed tiredly and stretched his lips in a faint smile. Chanyeol didn’t get it and he probably didn’t read too much into it.

“I didn’t know him and to be completely honest with you every time his name is brought up I half want to cry half want to punch a wall. But if he was for you who I think he was...Nobody who loves you would want you to be their sacrifice, Hyun.” Chanyeol stopped, bringing his hand to the back of his nape to scratch there a bit. “Erhm..I went full deep shit on you didn’t I?”

He chuckled. “I don’t know Baekhyun-ah, I just want...I want you happy. That’s all. You can join another band or...Well you could ignore me completely and tell me to go to hell, but I’d be pretty hurt.”

Chanyeol shrugged and moved a couple of steps back as the other boy came forward to the edge of the stage and carefully sat down, his legs dangling from the side. He touched Chanyeol’s shoulder, patted it a couple of times and he jumped down.

“Are you going to say anything?” Chanyeol asked, following Baekhyun’s frame as he hurried towards the table where he was sitting earlier.

“Give me a second.”

Chanyeol did, waiting by the stage obediently. “We have a performance on Saturday. We’re still rehearsing, so I mean…” He stopped, as Baekhyun closed the distance between them and halted in front of him. “You can still join if you want. Will you think about it?”

Baekhyun smiled, nodding and handed Chanyeol a tape. “I’ve been working on this with Kyungsoo and Sehun for a while. Promise me you’ll listen to it when you’re home. Mh, guitarboy?”

Chanyeol’s ears flamed up a big bonfire, as he took the cassette, in one hand and alternated fleeting looks from it to Baekhyun, only to focus on the singer. “You’ve been doing music,” he said, disbelieving.

“I’ll think about what you said.” Baekhyun grinned, retreating. “I had a lot of things to say but...on afterthought just listen to that, alright?”

“Wait no. What-?”

“Listen to that. You’ll understand,” Baekhyun reassured as he put his Gibson back into its case. Shiah entered Paradise Dust a few seconds after and Chanyeol had never been so upset for someone walking in on him trying to have a conversation like he did then.  


 

Chanyeol listened to the tape as soon as he got home, almost breaking his cassette player in the process as he hurriedly sat on the floor holding onto the cassette case— it read _One thousand million suns_ on it, scribbled in Baekhyun’s ugly handwriting.

Chanyeol pressed play, and the song started with Baekhyun’s guitar only, the sound confident and precise. Eventually he started singing, before Kyungsoo and Sehun could join in the main melody and create a solid sound with him. It was a very different song from the first one Baekhyun had composed, and he sang really differently. There was no desperation, no melancholy. He was singing the words with no shaking in his voice, enjoying every single note he played and every change of tone in his voice.

It was a song about details and light, about shy touches and change.

It wasn’t an obvious love song, but for some reason Chanyeol found himself hiding his face in the crook of his arm when the second verse started and he thought _he’s singing about us_.

He’d tried so hard to convince Baekhyun to keep _music_ that he hadn’t focused on convincing Baekhyun to keep _him_ . The song, though. _You’ll understand_ , Baekhyun had said, and Chanyeol did.

It gave him some hope that maybe, maybe he wasn’t the only one who was in love.

 

.

 

 _Drug_ in Hongdae was unexpectedly big and crowded by the time Chanyeol and the rest of Ginkgo dawn had managed to prepare everything _and themselves_ mentally to finally go on that stage and show people what they were capable of doing.

The leader of Crying Nut had been nice, introducing them to the other members of the band and to the entire staff of Drug to the point where Chanyeol had started feeling a bit overwhelmed. A lot of people had come to the venue, filling it up to the last corner— it was intimidating and exciting at the same time. Yoora had brought a few people there from her University and her entire Newspaper Club, Shiah and Jongdae had showed up together unexpectedly. Chanyeol had almost dreaded to see Jongdeok behind them, but there was no trace of him.

Baekhyun hadn’t showed up to their rehearsals.

Chanyeol had hoped continuously and intensely that he would, but he never did and he stopped deluding himself by the time he was already in Hongdae and it was very clear Baekhyun wouldn’t come.

“I can’t believe we’re actually playing here” Sehun shared as they were sitting on a sofa in the room backstage. It was very different from the other venues they’d played, that had pretty much looked like they weren’t even expecting bands to play there if it hadn’t been for the stage. Drug had a backstage room and a staff of people actually helping out, similarly to what had happened at Rolling Stone in Sinchon.

“I can’t believe they called us again, after what happened last time,” Kyungsoo commented with a vein of sarcasm, looking up and waving his hand at someone behind Chanyeol. He turned his head back to focus on Jongdae coming in.

“They’re saying you’re up in fifteen minutes,” Jongdae informed while he patted Chanyeol on the back as if they’d been friends forever. “Nervous?”

“More like I want to puke,” Chanyeol replied with a sigh. He looked around the room once more. Crying Nut where gathered to the opposite side of it, discussing stuff about their own stage; one man from the staff was standing at the door.

“You guys will be fine,” Jongdae reassured, following Chanyeol’s gaze worryingly and ending up on Kyungsoo and Sehun again while wrapping the hem of his t-shirt around his finger. “No news from Baekhyun?”

“Nope.”

They all shook their heads.

“If he hasn’t come to the rehearsals, then…” Chanyeol shrugged. He wondered what the point of that song had been, if Baekhyun had decided not to show up— even if not to play, just to _see_ Chanyeol perform. It would’ve been enough to ease this tension building up inside of him, knowing that this would be their last stage if they failed.

Someone peeked in at the door. _Up in ten!_ the guy shouted.  
  
“Hadn’t you said fifteen?” Sehun complained, the stage fright taking a toll on him too, no matter how calm he was pretending to be

Chanyeol felt a sense of dizziness as he closed his eyes and leaned a little on Jongdae. The other just circled an arm around his shoulder. “It’ll be fine, you’ll see,” he kept saying but Chanyeol couldn’t calm down, not at all.

He wanted Baekhyun there. That would help.

“Guys,” the leader of Crying Nut approached them a bit shyly, contrasting completely with the image he gave on stage. “Maybe it’s better if you start preparing to go up, you know? Do it slowly, but I suggest you start.”

They nodded as they gingerly stood up, then the door slammed open and they all froze.

Baekhyun was on the doorstep, folded in two— guitar on his back careening dangerously forward, panting like he’d ran seven marathons in one go. He raised his head and there he was, smug grin on his damn handsome face.

“Do you guys mind if I join?”

Chanyeol could’ve screamed. All he managed to do was smile like the brightest of idiots while his other two idiot bandmates screamed an almost unison _Hyung_ and _You piece of shit_ and ran to literally hit him on the head several times playfully.

Baekhyun recoiled, trying to push them away and at the same time make himself presentable— his hair were a mess and he was sweaty and disgusting. But he was smiling so carefree. It was overwhelming and relieving at the same time. Baekhyun met Chanyeol’s eyes at some point through all the pushing and pulling of the other two, helped by Jongdae who seemed just as excited to see the other boy.

“I can’t believe you made us wait so long, you bastard. We totally thought you wouldn’t come!” Kyungsoo complained, hitting him on the shoulder again. “And now there’s no time for your soundcheck or anything.”

“That was the point,” Baekhyun responded shrugging, his gaze never leaving Chanyeol. It was insisting and endearing and all Chanyeol wanted to do was kiss him. “I was late on purpose, what to you think. For the soundcheck...I guess I’ll have to manage?”

One of the guys of Crying Nut cut in “Just plug the thing in and play, nobody in that crowd of mad idiots will know, dude.”

They all laughed in response and before they knew Jongdae was starting to push them towards the stage. “I’ll see you from the pit, guys. Do fucking well, I want you to be famous alright?”

“Just go, dude, go” Baekhyun flapped his hand at the boy and smiled at him before glancing towards Chanyeol again.

They were really doing this. Baekhyun had showed up, he was playing with them and he looked happy. Chanyeol’s heart didn’t stop drumming furiously inside his chest for even a moment as he noticed the small movements of Baekhyun as he was trying to fix his clothes and dry his forehead in the darkness of the stairs just before the stage.

Someone called them, and they were finally climbing those last steps, Kyungsoo leading and the others scattered behind him to follow.

Everything was pitch black, just as usual, and the audience was quiet to the point that it was eerie— only whispers could be heard, murmurs. Yet it was different from last time, the whole atmosphere at the venue was somewhat warmer, welcoming, and knowing people they knew were in the audience seemed to cut off some of the edge for them.

“Chanyeol. Hey, Park Chanyeol.”

Baekhyun whispered his name as he plugged in his guitar and Chanyeol slung his on his shoulder. “Park Chanyeol, ya!” He tried with a louder whisper.

“What?”

“C’mere,” Baekhyun said and he rushed a couple of steps towards Chanyeol, pulling him down just a little and forcing him to hunch. He cupped Chanyeol’s ear and he was so close that Chanyeol almost felt his lips brush against his skin.

“Wha-” Chanyeol couldn’t get to the end of the word.

“ _I love you_ ,” he murmured like it was this big sacred secret.

The bright lights of the stage went on just as Baekhyun retreated with the most wicked smile and the most attractive of faces he’d ever made. The audience exploded with screams and cheers as Baekhyun took his position again.

He glanced towards Chanyeol, cheeky, but Chanyeol’s whole being had stopped moving or rationalizing thoughts. He was as red and flustered as he could be— his hands shook as he took the microphone and stuttered a “Ehr-...We…” into it, after clearing his voice.

“What our leader was trying to say is...that we’re Ginkgo Dawn and we’ll be opening the show of our sunbaenim’s Crying Nut today...” Baekhyun cut in, his eyes lingering on Chanyeol with an amused, fond gaze as he continued. “...and trust me, they’re just as great as everyone says.”

The audience cheered for them, and a loud, high pitched voice could be heard screaming _Byun Baekhyun!!!_ from the very back of the pit. A male voice followed, and Chanyeol was sure it was Jongdae this time. It was hilarious because other people from the public repeated the name as well.

Baekhyun laughed a stupid laugh into the microphone. “Yeah, thank you for the support and for coming here tonight. Now, for our first song we...Had prepared something, but judging from how eager the audience is today, we’ll try something different, what do you say?”

The public roared again as Chanyeol’s eyes darted towards Baekhyun in worry.

“What the hell are you doing?” he mouthed almost angrily, his heart a mess the more Baekhyun smiled at him.

“Trust me, big boy,” Baekhyun mouthed back and braced his guitar after throwing a confident look to Sehun and Kyungsoo.

Chanyeol’s lips curled up in a non intentional smile, as Baekhyun leaned into the microphone again. “This song is called ‘One Thousand Million Suns’ and it’s the first time we perform it, so don’t be too rough on us, alright?” He waited for a response, and only after he chuckled again. He was the devil. “Let’s go,” he whispered into the mic and the audience went wild with the intensity of a wildfire.

Chanyeol almost died with them, clutching at his guitar as Baekhyun strummed the opening of the song, of _his_ song after Kyungsoo counted four rim shots on his high hat cymbals. It was a trail of rhythmated notes, high and light like stars— not points of light in the darkness of the sky but the real suns the title of the song was talking about.

 _Tame the wild ghosts inside my head, light my spirit gold as you hold the tip of my finger and kiss it warm_ Baekhyun sang softly into the verse and Chanyeol could almost see the melody unravel in front of his eyes bright, luminous as it unrolled over the crowd and almost compelled it to move like a slow, sleepy monster yielding under their notes.

Chanyeol kicked in, trading notes with Baekhyun and basking in the warm tone of Sehun’s bass, as the pre-chorus started. He was improvising and was sure his fingers were all over the place but somehow their sound, the music, it was all harmonic, perfect. Baekhyun looked over his shoulder to meet Chanyeol’s gaze and he even moved closer to him so that he could scream the lyrics swelling his throat into Chanyeol’s microphone and _for the love of God_ he laughed through the lyrics. Chanyeol punched him away playfully and there were a few screams from the public again.

The song, every single word of it. The lyrics weren’t just sounds, Baekhyun had imprinted his memories, his feelings like photographs into it and Chanyeol could feel them all. He sang his throat out, as he harmonized with Baekhyun remembering only half of the words and delivering each one of those pieces of him -of them- towards the audience.

Baekhyun sang strong, crisp and clear but also so clearly enjoying his own creation, biting off every word. His fingers curled over the fret for the next chord on the neck of his guitar, and his right hung just above the string as he threw a glance to Chanyeol, as if asking if he was ready for the finale.

He was.

 

Their performance was a great success, and the guys of Crying Nut even shamelessly promoted them and before they started their own stage and thanked Ginkgo Dawn for their help opening the live show. It was great, but Baekhyun and Chanyeol heard nothing of that, at least not in person.

Chanyeol pushed Baekhyun against the wall in the side street right out of the back door of Drug, cupping his face and kissing away the silence that had been there between them for the past month. He pushed up Baekhyun’s glasses and the singer smiled into the kiss, feeding yet another _I love you_ into Chanyeol’s lips and basking in the way the guitarist’s ears tinged of a deep shade of crimson.

They did eventually go back in to watch the rest of the show, stuck in the last corner of the venue. However in all honesty, all Chanyeol remembered was the softness of Baekhyun’s hand in his, the weight of his back against Chanyeol’s chest and the low steady rhythm of the drums resonating through them.


	17. Outro (Bonus Track)

**Outro (Bonus Track)**

 

Ginkgo Dawn snatched a contract with the Bang Twins and a special place as stage opener for Crying Nut at almost every one of their stages, after that performance at the Drug, a week earlier. A few things had changed, since then, and a few were just the same after all.

First, Chanyeol had moved back into the hasukjib into his old room in the attic— Baekhyun still spent there most of the day and the whole night, so there hadn’t been much change on that front.

Sehun and Kyungsoo had finally spilled the beans about them dating for more than two years to Jiho, when they met to celebrate the success of their liveshow. Jiho had walked away a little paler and wobbly on his feet because of the alcohol, but he hadn’t been that shocked from the news— he’d also seemed to like Baekhyun a lot, which was a big bonus.

On the band scenario, they’d been rehearsing every day because of an upcoming stage back at Paradise Dust. After Jongdae had kicked his brother’s ass, Jongdeok hadn’t tried to take Baekhyun away again, and he went back to his old supportive self which Chanyeol wasn’t too convinced about, at this point.

Baekhyun had changed major to music composition and, despite his father not exactly approving, his mother and brother were finally happy that he was doing something he liked —and that didn’t involve protests and nights in prison.

Also, Baekhyun had started calling Chanyeol his boyfriend when nobody was around and they could go from pretending to be just the best of friends, to finally sit a little closer, touch a little more. That was Chanyeol’s favorite change, if someone asked him.

The abandoned house between Dongwon Church and the elementary school in Jaegidong was still abandoned when Chanyeol and Baekhyun walked in prying off the boards blocking the entrance. It was exactly the same as they’d left it, with the exception of a bag of trash nailed to the wall in one corner and three tuna cans on the veranda.

“Did you come back to feed them?” Chanyeol asked as he kicked some stones with the point of his shoe, walking right next to the singer.

“Not them, just him,” he said just as a tiny head peeked through a hole on the paper window closing on the veranda. “The others left at some point, Socksie didn’t.”

Baekhyun hurried to climb on the porch, his pink samdidas sliding off his feet as he kneeled on the wooden veranda and reached out for Socksie to sniff his hand.

“You’ve been coming back all this time and you never told me?”

Chanyeol reached him eventually, sitting next to the singer on the veranda. It was a scorching hot day, the sun was still up and bright, almost burning on bare skin. Baekhyun had been much smarter than Chanyeol— almost completely dressed in white with gym shorts and a big baggy t-shirt, contrasting with Chanyeol’s entirely black outfit that was sucking in every ray of sun possible.

“Yeah, I mean you don’t even like cats,” Baekhyun pointed out as Socksie finally stumbled out of the door and pounced at Baekhyun’s arms. Baekhyun caught his face into his palm and the kitten rolled on his back, clawing at the singer’s palm with all four of its white paws.

“I like cats, I’m just more of a dog person. But all animals are cute,” Chanyeol intruded, poking Socksie’s side— the kitten curled up on one side and meowed loudly. “He’s so much bigger than last time we saw him.”

“You’re his mom now Yeol, you can’t escape,” Baekhyun joked, taking a tuna can out of the plastic bag he’d brought along. “In conclusion we’re taking him with us.”

Chanyeol’s eyes went wide as the cat started nibbling on Chanyeol’s fingers, completely forgetting about Baekhyun there. “They’re gonna kick us out, are you insane?”

“The lady loves cats, dude, have you ever even seen her?”

Chanyeol thought about it and took his hand back when the kitten dug his teeth into it a little too hard. “No, I hardly ever spoke to her, to be honest.” He opened the tuna can, left it on the porch next to Baekhyun, then slowly huffed as he stood up to go throw the lid away.

“You like the cat already and you’re playing grumpy, aren’t you?” Baekhyun said, crossing his ankles and swinging his feet on the ground a little. Meanwhile Socksie started sniffing the tuna can, pushing it a little with his paws before digging into it for his lunch.

He didn’t seem to care that Baekhyun was right next to him as he ate.

“Sort of.” Chanyeol admitted. “It also has to do with me being allergic, you know...And the hairs, and we’ll be covered in cat hair…and cats climb on things, scratch other things and…”

“Yeol-ah!” Baekhyun called. Chanyeol turned around and literally almost saw death in the face. In that moment he thanked all the video games he’d played in the last years and the fact that he had good reflexes, because Baekhyun had just thrown a pink shoe at him and he’d caught it.

“What are you doing, idiot ByunBaek? Huh?” He said, not even caring to fake an angry tone as Baekhyun was lying on his elbows with a leg jutting up in the air, pointy foot included.

“Nothing?” Baekhyun dared him with a smug smile and the least effective innocent tone Chanyeol had ever heard.

The guitarist strode towards him and when he was close enough he grabbed Baekhyun’s ankle and started to push it so that Baekhyun was forced to slowly lay down onto the wooden surface of the porch — Baekhyun’s leg automatically folded and the singer shamelessly pressed his foot against Chanyeol’s shoulder. Chanyeol drew shapes with his thumb on the bone jutting out on Baekhyun’s ankle, while his other hand rested on his hip.

“What are you doing, sir?” Baekhyun asked, spiking up the honorifics in his speech along with the damned flirty grin on his face. Chanyeol weighed on him until he was impossibly close, so close that he could count his lashes and kiss his freckles.

“Nothing?” He said, but he kissed the corner of Baekhyun’s lip as the singer chuckled and his whole body seemed to shake with laughter like a small earthquake.

Chanyeol let go of Baekhyun’s ankle after brushing a kiss on the side of it, as his hands circled Baekhyun’s wrists and gently guided them until the singer’s arms were stretched behind his head. It was just a shallow grip, Baekhyun could sneak out of it if he wanted, but he didn’t. Instead he reached up with his lips, kissing Chanyeol with a languid, slow tempo — like a waltz. Chanyeol thought he could get drunk on Baekhyun’s kisses.

The guitarist tentatively grazed the skin of his wrists— soft, smooth, until he felt a bump under his fingertips and he drew away from the kiss in a mix between surprise and guilt.

“Who told you to stop?” Baekhyun complained quite openly, freeing one of his hands to reach for Chanyeol’s cheek. The guitarist’s eyes, however, were fixed on the bump on that perfectly round shaped scar on the singer’s wrist.

It reminded Chanyeol of that time on the stairs, months ago. Baekhyun dozing off, and him being stupid enough to light a cigarette and burn his wrist. He remembered thinking Baekhyun had pretty hands; that mole on his lips was like a kiss of ink.

“I’m so sorry for this,” he said, grazing the scar again and finally pulling Baekhyun’s wrist closer to press his lips over the skin there.

“It’s fine, I’m a big boy,” Baekhyun said, but he’d turned his head to the side and his ears were a shade darker than they were a moment earlier.

Chanyeol kissed the scar again, then dragged his nose up his wrist and kissed the center of his palm too, just because he could.

“What’s with you today?”

“I don’t know, you’re hot, it’s hot…” He exhaled contented as he squished Baekhyun against the porch even more, by resting his head on the singer’s shoulder.

They stayed like that for a while, Baekhyun carding his hand through Chanyeol’s hair and dipping his fingers just under the collar of his t-shirt furtively. It was scorching hot and Baekhyun thought they would probably combust there any time soon, or at least he would, when

Chanyeol suddenly went very rigid and blinked a couple of times, feeling his nose itch already.

“Hyun-ah, I think the cat is licking my ear.”

Baekhyun craned his head a bit to check, then nodded at him with a wicked grin while guiding his head up a little. “Yup, he is. Don’t sneeze on my face.” He cupped his cheek and pecked a kiss on his lips. “I told you we were taking the cat,” he noted with a vaguely amused tone.

He retreated, then grazed Chanyeol’s cheek with the side of his finger and nuzzled into it tenderly with his nose— his eyelashes tickled Chanyeol’s skin and made shivers run all the way down his back.

“You’re trying to convince me to take the cat with us, aren’t you?” Chanyeol questioned, bringing his hand back on the side of Baekhyun’s shin. He wasn’t even mad, he was so happy he could cry.

Baekhyun stopped, and Chanyeol could feel him smiling. “I am. Is it working?”

“It might, if you continue.”

Baekhyun chuckled lowly. “Then let’s.”  



End file.
